Promise Me Love
by JodieLove
Summary: Hermione's desperate for money. Desperate enough to accept Draco's offer to become his girlfriend for 4 months and make his dad say the fateful words he wants to hear: "You can marry anyone but her." Warning OOC Narcissa and Lucius. Re-editing, complete!
1. Prologue: Introductions

**BRIEF DESCRIPTION:**

**This will be a DRAMIONE(Draco/Hermione) story, because I want to try different characters. I know that some people do not like this couple, so I'm sorry to disappoint. **

**Anyways, yes, a Draco/Hermione story that is slightly AU. I will NOT change JK Rowling's books much, although I will disregard the epilogue. I may or may not have them start off as acquaintances though, and not enemies. The only AU thing for sure at this moment will be Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.**

**IT IS LOOSELY BASED ON THE MOVIE I ONCE WATCHED THE BEGINNING OF called Contract Lover. It won't be the same, as I haven't watched the whole movie.**

**This will be under romance/drama/humor/general type.**

**READ THIS**

**PLOT SUMMARY:**

Basically, the two of them are out of school now. They're eighteen. Draco has a girlfriend that he cannot take to his parents, and so he hires Hermione. Hermione's job, for 5 000 galleons (25000 pounds) , is to be his temporary girlfriend for 4 months, but she will only get the money if she can make his dad so mad (by being virtully the worst possible girlfriend fo a man's son) he will say "you can marry anybody but her".

* * *

**Prologue: Introductions**

Soft brown eyes flicked over the many heads in the cramped room, trying to locate two in particular.

She squinted to get a better view in the hazy darkness. She tilted her head forward, craning to see, and as she did this, her long side swept bangs fell over her right eye. Habitually, she tucked them behind her ear.

_Where were they? _she wondered, slightly put off that they seemed to be missing. Again, she panned the mass of people within the Leaky Cauldron—many of which were not the sort she'd typically like to find herself around. She couldn't tell whether they were wizards, like herself, or not.

"Hermione!" someone called from her right. Instantly, she recognized the familiar voice. Having spent the last 7 years with that person in school as best friends could have been the reason why.

She turned to her right, letting out a little yelp as she just managed to leap out of the way of a colossal man barreling past, reminding her somewhat of Hagrid, a half giant that she knew from Hogwarts—the school she had previously studied at.

She looked back to assure herself that the unmannered man was _not _in fact her friend.

When she had determined that, she returned her gaze to the black haired boy—no, man—sitting with another man at the table that seemed much too small for the four large chairs around it. "Harry! Ron!" she called, sending the two a small wave as she walked towards them.

She took a seat, blushing ever so slightly as per usual when she was near Ron.

"Sorry," Harry spoke as he sent her an apologetic smile, "we couldn't see you."

Hermione shrugged, her previous annoyance lost. "It's no problem," she smiled. "How's auror training these days?"

Immediately after the demise of Voldemort, the Wizarding world had gone on a phase of pure euphoria. Everybody, everywhere had celebrated for weeks on end, marking the end of the man who had terrorized their world for over two decades.

And after most of this euphoria had worn off, things began to return to normal—or as normal as they could be in a magical world. This took nearly two months though.

Because of their heroic efforts in the war, Harry, Ron, and much to her annoyance, Hermione, had been offered many jobs and opportunities in every career that could be imagined. As predicted, Harry and Ron had immediately leaped at the chance to become an auror, and now, almost a year after the Hogwarts battle, were finally aurors-in-training.

Ron shrugged, "Same as usual. Busy as bloody hell though." He took a sip of whatever drink was in front of him.

"Ron's just whining," insisted Harry, "it's really great." He pushed his glasses up a bit as the slid down his nose a notch.

"I still don't get why we had to do the training thing Harry," complained Ron, "I mean, the man Ross clearly said we could just _take _the positions. We've had what? Seven years of training already."

"Yes, but it wouldn't be _right," _emphasized Hermione, shaking her head.

"Right, shmight," groaned Ron. "You're not the one with bruises everywhere."

"That's not the point," said Hermione.

"Sometimes, I still can't understand you Hermione." He smiled to show that he was only teasing.

Hermione felt herself blush again, and silently she thanked the darkness. She wouldn't say exactly that she was _in _love with Ron, but she had already admitted to Harry that she had a tiny crush on her old friend. It was inevitable, she reasoned, just something that she had to get over in life.

"How have you been then Hermione," Harry addressed to her. "Making any progress?"

Hermione didn't hold in the large sigh. "None at all," she said dishearteningly, "I've made barely enough to cover the necessities for the month, much less any extra to save."

Her friends smiled sadly at her. Both knew she was working hard to gather enough money to attend the exclusive wizarding medical school abroad in France. It was similar to the muggle term 'university or college'—somewhere to further education. Harry would compare this school, _Erudstrass, _to the equivalent of an Ivy League university like Harvard, in both education and expenses. It was Hermione's dream to study there, and she refused to consider any other future.

"Hermione," started Harry, "I could pay for some of—"

But she easily cut him off. "I know you have good intentions Harry, but I refuse to let you pay for me. I'll find a way to save up for it myself Harry. Thank you though."

Harry nodded, but inwardly doubted that there would be a way to make that kind of money. The two year cost for this school was 5,000 galleons. An incredible sum that only few could manage in the wizarding society.

Hermione, sensing the slight discomfort at her refusal of help, changed the subject. "Are we waiting for anyone?" she asked, pointing at the fourth chair at the table with a frown. "Is Ginny coming, Harry?"

"Ah," Harry tugged at his collar, clearly even more uncomfortable, "no."

"Then…"

He looked at Ron, who bit his lip and turned away.

"It's for…"

"Yes?" urged Hermione, raising one perfectly curved brow.

"Luna!" cried Ron suddenly, spotting the blond haired girl. "Over here!"

"Luna?" wondered Hermione aloud. Nonetheless, she greeted her old friend with enthusiasm, if not a little skepticism.

She looked at Harry, who gave her a pitying expression.

Then she looked at Luna. Luna…who was thoroughly snogging Ron by now.

Not yet processing this, she returned to Harry, who was downing the second glass of firewhiskey whole.

Then, back at the couple. And suddenly it dawned on her. _Couple. _

She narrowed her eyes.

Ron had chosen Luna Lovegood over her?

Hermione reached over to the magically refilling glass in front of Harry, grabbing the tiny shot of alcohol and gulped it down immediately.

Briefly, she registered that she wasn't so much heartbroken as angry, but hell, it hurt.

She took another gulp. It hurt that her crush had chosen the spaced out, generally declared insane girl over her. It hurt that that girl was her friend as well. It hurt that her life was a mess. It hurt that she knew she was probably never going to make it to her dream school. Everything just hurt.

Why wasn't her life perfect? Fresh out of Hogwarts, brightest witch of the year, and she was downing firewhiskey at the Leaky Cauldron trying to hold back tears. How had this come to be? How had Hermione Grangers life become such a rotten, rotten, pit hole of a life?

* * *

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was sitting in the slightly uncomfortable, but surely expensive chairs in _La Maison, _a high class _club_. His slate grey eyes stormed over as he began to think, considering how such pricey chairs could be so damn uncomfortable. He could hardly call this establishment a club. More like…a restaurant that only served wine and appetizers.

"Monsieur?" said the waiter, in a ridiculously fake accent, "more wine?"

Draco nodded, his soft pale blond hair gleaming in the low light. "Please," he said automatically. A _club _with waiters, not bartenders. He took a sip of his newly refilled glass of wine.

"Malfoy!" bellowed a voice from behind him as a hand came clapping against his back.

Draco sputtered, unceremoniously spitting out the red liquid back into the goblet. He coughed roughly as he tapped his chest, while glaring at the tall dark skinned man before him.

Finally regaining his breath, Draco sneered. "Zabini."

It was simply an acknowledgement, although as he said this, his sneer slowly transformed into a small smile.

"Still a bastard as ever," laughed the man with a voice that could ensnare any girl. He took a seat beside his best friend. "Damn these chairs," he groaned, voicing Draco's earlier opinion.

Draco laughed.

"Yes, sure, have a seat Blaise," he said sarcastically. Blaise Zabini was Draco's best friend, ever since his falling out with Crabbe and Goyle. And although often more than not, they would quarrel and tease each other, sometimes rather maliciously and competitively, in the end, it was friendly to the both of them.

Blaise was the same age as Draco, 18, and had been in the house Slytherin throughout their six years in Hogwarts. He was the son of a reputatedly incomparable beauty of a mother, where he evidently inherited most of his looks, and perhaps, arrogance. Although Draco wasn't one to speak, he was attempting to change. As was Blaise.

"How have you been?" Blaise asked as he waved for a glass of wine as well, looking over at his friend.

"No different than the last time we talked Zabini, which would coincidentally be the night before."

Blaise laughed. "It's a formality Malfoy."

"Rather pointless," he sneered.

"How's that girl then? I'm pretty sure I didn't ask of her last night."

"Only the night before that," said Malfoy. "Her name is Stephanie."

"Yes, yes, her."

Stephanie was Draco's girlfriend of nearly a year. She was the epitome of beauty, with long brown hair, and catlike green eyes. Draco rather fancied himself _in love _with her. He had met her almost immediately after the final battle, in which he had not participated in. He had, however, contributed to it though.

No, Draco Malfoy had not seen the light miraculously and simply decided to join Potter on his quest to victory as a result. It was more of the fact that Draco liked to win. And the good guys always won.

Although, he would never admit it to anybody though, but secretly, he had always wanted to be a good guy. Maybe when he was little, he had once fallen in love with the idea of being a hero.

He shook his head. That idea had long left him, but nevertheless, he was glad to have assisted Dumbledore's side in the battle and to have convinced his father to help as well. That had saved his family from ruins and was the reason they were still one of the richest around.

Draco snapped out of his thoughts.

"She's fine."

Blaise shook his head, somewhat mockingly. "Draco, you know Lucius and Narcissa would never approve of her."

His friend didn't answer.

"Draco?"

"I know," he answered quietly, finally.

"They hate the Americans."

"I know."

"They won't like her, even if she's from a pureblood family."

"I KNOW, for god's sake!" Draco erupted, earning reproachful glances from the people around him.

Blaise only nodded with a smirk while he turned away and transfigured his seat into something more comfortable, earning even more horrified glares from around.

Scandalous actions in the minds of others, but he could care less.

Draco took his friend's lead.

Finally, he lifted his goblet and sank into the plush padding of his new seat. He raised the glass, clinking it with his friend's, as they fell into idle chatter, letting the night slip away.


	2. Who Were They Kidding?

**Lalala thanks to **TyRaNdE wHiSpErWiNd, Writer of Mysteries, xxIcyAngelxx, Lyss, Friar Freaking Lawrence, Comicrileef, EdgeofDarkness** for reviewing.**

**Just a note. This story won't centre on Harry or Ron much at all. Or the war etc.**

**And no offense against Americans.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine.**

* * *

**Who Were They Kidding?**

To put it in the simplest way possible: Draco Malfoy was in a fix. He was stuck between a brick wall, and another brick wall—and another—and another. All four directions, he was stuck. Completely and utterly trapped.

Draco ran a hand through his pale blond hair helplessly, looking towards his friend with a pitiful expression on his face.

"Man," laughed Blaise, too amused to even make a slight attempt at pity.

"Shut up," growled Draco, bestowing a cold glare. He rubbed his eyes roughly, simultaneously passing a slip of paper to his friend. "Just go do it Blaise."

Blaise Zabini looked up, startled, his dark brown eyes flashing. "Wait…you're not serious are you? You're actually going to follow through with this insane plan of hers?"

Draco raised his brows, "I have no choice now do I?"

"But—but—"

Draco held up a hand, thoroughly silencing his friend. "Just do it," he frowned. "Before I get some damn sense," he muttered under his breath, causing a chuckle to escape from his friend's lips.

What, you may ask, was Blaise Zabini supposed to do? He looked down to the paper folded neatly in his hands.

_Looking for a temporary girlfriend for 4 months._

_5,000 galleons pay._

_Auditions are on May 15__th__ at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade at 10am._

Draco waited as his friend scanned the note. "The rest you know," he started, "so you can just add it in."

"You mean about how this 'temporary girlfriend' has to face your _father _and _mother._ How she's supposed to—_"_

"Yes," Draco snapped. "Spread the word discreetly. Mother checks the papers everyday, so this has to be passed on by mouth."

Blaise shook his head, making sure one last time. "You're serious?"

"Yes," sighed Draco. "Now, get the hell out of here."

The dark-skinned boy shrugged, "It's not going to work out." Upon seeing Draco's resentful glare, he defended, "Hey, I'm just saying." With that, he strode out of the room, shaking his head.

Draco sank into the dark green leather chair in his study after Blaise left, his eyes flicking over the walls lined with books from countless generations. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was going to regret this—he knew it. He didn't need Blaise to tell him that this wasn't going to work—in fact, he was fairly certain of that already.

He browsed through the events of the previous night playing through his head, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that he had agreed to this ridiculous idea.

_He stood beside the fireplace, gently brushing off the little soot that he had acquired flooing. When he looked up, she was in front of him, smiling gently._

_He couldn't help it. His own lips curved into a small smile as well._

_"You look beautiful."_

_Her smile grew. As he knew it would._

_He took her small hands in his, leading her to a nearby mirror. His long elegant fingers worked to push her hair to the side as she looked at him wondrously._

_He pulled something out of his pocket._

_She gasped._

_He took the silver necklace into his hands, carefully wrapping it around her neck so that the small gem shone in the light._

_She watched the mirror, mesmerized. He watched her through the mirror. _

Draco smiled. _No, _he thought, _it couldn't have been then. _It was somewhere later in the night.

_"Where are we going?" she asked as she fingered the gift around her neck. "Come on, Drake, tell me."_

_He faltered. No matter how many times he told her not to, she continued to call him Drake._

_"You'll have to wait," he said shortly._

_She frowned. "I'm sorry Draco," she said. "You don't like being called Drake. I don't even know why I keep doing it. I'm so stupi—"_

_Draco looked over, seeing the pout on her face and instantly feeling guilty. Without knowing it, he said automatically, "you can call me whatever you want baby."_

_She smiled._

He was so whipped, Draco mused unhappily, somewhat mockingly. He didn't know what it was about her that entranced him the way it did. She was beautiful, yes. For the moment, he couldn't think of anything else and so he let himself fall back into the memories.

_By now, they were eating. Draco forked a piece of meat, chewing it thoughtfully while he listened—or pretended to listen—to his girlfriend's incessant chatter._

_"…so Drake"_

_He flinched again, but this time, he was careful so that she couldn't catch it._

_"I was wondering, when will I meet Lucius and Narcissa?"_

_He choked on his food, which he had previously just swallowed. He grabbed his glass of water that Stephanie had hastily offered and washed it down, trying to ease the pain in his chest._

Draco frowned. They were getting closer now.

_"Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, worry creasing her forehead._

_"Yes, yes," he assured, clearing his throat a few times._

_She waited patiently for him to answer._

_He reached across the table to clasp his hands over hers. "Steph, you _know _why I can't take you to see them. I thought we had gone over this already," he sighed._

_"I just don't get why they won't like me," she huffed._

_"They're old fashioned people," he defended._

_"But we can't avoid this forever," she sighed. "Please Dra—co?"_

_"No."_

_"Pleaaaaasseee? For me?"_

There. That was the moment that he had been lost. She had fluttered her pretty little lashes that framed her large widened eyes, leaned forward and protruded her perfect lips in a pout—intoxicating him. It was _the _face.

Damn the face.

_"Fine, I'll think of something," he relented, wondering exactly what he could do. But he needn't have as she interrupted._

_"Oh, Drake! I already have!" she exclaimed happily, clapping her hands together._

_"Oh?"_

_"See, you'll hire a girlfriend."_

_"Pardon? I thought I already had one," he said, confusedly._

_She waved her hand._

_"No, no. Listen. She'll be a fake. You'll take her home, and she'll make you parents so mad, they won't care who you date as long as it's not her!" Her eyes glinted with happiness. "Isn't it absolutely brilliant?"_

_He begged to differ._

And still, his opinion hadn't changed. After a full 24 hours, he had yet to see the supposed brilliance in that plan.

Either she was some sort of genius, seeing something that he obviously could not see, which in all honestly, he could not truly say he believed, or the plan was purely preposterous, senseless—'whacked out' even, as Stephanie would say in her American accent. He was rather inclined to choose the latter. He wondered how he could pull this off. His parent's weren't exactly stupid.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a few moments, coming up with only one conclusion.

It was going to be a long four months.

Draco Malfoy didn't know the least of it.

* * *

Blaise Zabini took a deep breath and strode lazily towards his co-workers desk.

"Potter."

The man in front of him looked up from his desk, his pen stopping mid-scrawl. Harry peered up through his black rimmed glasses. "Zabini," he returned.

"Congratulations on your marriage Potter."

Now, the pen dropped. "Yes, the marriage that was over a month ago. At a ceremony that you attended Blaise," Harry correctly pointed out. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Cut to the chase."

"And here people said you were stupid."

"Those people would be you and Malfoy," laughed Harry. "What do you want?"

Blaise smiled back. They had come to become mutual acquaintances over time, working as aurors together. Although, he couldn't say the same for Weasley. Weasley would always be the Weasel-head, much to Harry's chagrin.

"Funny you should mention Malfoy," drawled Blaise, smirking slightly. He took a seat in the chair opposite Harry. "Happen to know anyone in need of money?" Blaise paused. "Female."

Seeing he had piqued Harry's interest, he figured Harry did in fact no somebody. He continued on.

"See, Malfoy's willing to pay for some services—"

"Oh god Zabini." Harry looked disgusted. "Absolutely not. Nobody I know would do _that. _Gross."

At first, Blaise was confused. It wasn't that bad was it? "Gross?" he voiced out, "It's not gross. It's perfectly proper." How was it gross?

"Proper?" Harry pushed his chair back and stood up, outraged. "Proper? Why would you even suggest it? That's just—"

To Blaise, he couldn't see anything wrong with it. Perhaps morally. But…That is, until Blaise caught the gist of what Harry was thinking.

"God no Potter. I wouldn't advertise _that _for Draco. No, no!" he quickly amended, almost laughing.

Harry looked disbelieving.

"It's bad, but not that bad. You still got someone in mind?"

Harry nodded briefly. Hermione was definitely desperate for money. The school year for Erudstrass started in October, a mere 5 months away. Maybe Blaise could have something.

"Good, because…"

Blaise proceeded to tell the plan to Harry, looking up every once in a while to judge Harry's expression, which pretty much remained impassive.

"…and that's it," Blaise finished, leaning back into his chair, watching Harry process the information.

"And you can guarantee she won't come to harm."

"Absolutely," assured Blaise.

"I don't know, I mean it's Malfoy."

"You know he's not that bad anymore."

"It's Malfoy. He'll always be that bad."

Blaise laughed. "Alright," he conceded. "But no. It's all going to be an act."

Harry, too, leaned back, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"And 5000 galleons if it works? You sure you don't have the number wrong?"

"I got it all on paper," answered Blaise, pleased to see Harry's increasing anticipation of the idea. "So you think your person will do it?"

"It's possible," murmured Harry. "Possible…"

Abruptly, he stood up. "I have to go Blaise. I think this might be it."

Blaise nodded and stood as well, watching as Harry picked up his cloak and grabbed a handful of floo powder from a bowl at his table.

Curious, Blaise decided that he should ask who Harry was thinking of.

"Harry," he called, just before the man threw in the powder. "Who are you thinking of?"

Harry smiled mischievously, mirth in his emerald green eyes. One could say he looked, for a moment, identical to his father right before a prank. "Hermione."

Then, without another moment, he threw in the powder and enunciated the word "home" clearly, disappearing in a flash of green smoke.

It was only then that Blaise registered what Harry said. Hermione. Hermione _Granger._ Bushy-haired know-it-all member of the Golden Trio. Self declared almost arch nemesis of Draco Malfoy before the war. "Oy! Potter!" Was the man insane?

But it was too late. Harry was gone.

Blaise smacked his forehead with his hand. He hadn't been wrong to call Harry stupid before. No. He had been right.

He could only hope Granger had a little more sense.

But who was he kidding?


	3. The Audition

**Disclaimer: H.P. is not mine. Which sadly includes all of its characters that I've literally fallen in love with.**

**I just want to mention that I know Hogwarts is 7 years, but in the case of Draco, Hermione, Harry and Ron, it's 6 because of DH. So I refer to it as 6 because this is DH compatible for the most part.**

**Reviews are lovely and appreciated!**

* * *

**The Audition**

"Harry!" cried Hermione, for about the billionth time that day.

And similarly, for the billionth time that day, Harry ignored his friend, keeping a firm hold on her wrist as he pulled her along the homey streets of Hogsmeade village. If he wasn't in such a rush, he would have stopped a moment to let the nostalgia settle in his mind. He had spent a good part of his childhood in this place.

Hermione stumbled along, cursing silently in her head. She briefly wondered how she had possibly agreed to this. Then it came to her—she _hadn't _agreed.

Why? Because she hadn't _known _until they had apparated here.

"Harry, stop," she said resolutely, planting her feet firmly into the ground.

He turned around. "Hermione, we won't make it if we don't hurry!" He checked his watch, and immediately prepared to drag his friend along once again. "It's 9:54!"

"But Harry, I don't see why I have to do this! It's Malfoy! You know…the git that's been…well….a git to us for all our six years at Hogwarts?"

"Hermione..."

"Come on Harry!"

"Aren't you always the one that tells us to look beyond appearances? To accept change? He's not evil Hermione."

"I never said he was!" she huffed, "but he's still a git and you know it. No amount of money is worth—"

Harry turned around and smirked mischievously. "Not even 5000 galleons?"

Hermione's jaw fell open.

"Besides, Ron might get jealous. That's always a bonus."

Hermione glared.

Harry continued with a short chuckle. "That's the full amount for tuition at that school of yours Hermione." He put both his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him head on. "You and I both know that you need this."

He hastily went on before she could interrupt, which he could see she was trying to do. "You'll never make enough in 4 months to go to school this October if you don't do this."

Hermione looked down, nodding briefly. "I know Harry," she said quietly. "I just don't want to believe there's no other way."

"There isn't."

"But—"

"Where's the girl I used to know, who refused every position offered just so she could go to this school? This is your dream Hermione. Don't let something so small, like Malfoy, get in the way of it," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw her smile.

"So are we going to do this?" he asked finally, "because we have about one minute to travel two blocks."

Hermione laughed. "We're wizards Harry." And with that, she grabbed his hand, feeling the similar lurch of her stomach as they traveled through apparation.

"Right," answered Harry, in a bit of a daze, as they appeared in front of the door to the Three Broomsticks not a second later. He shook his head trying to clear away the dizziness, "This is why we need you Hermione."

* * *

Whatever Hermione had been expecting was not what she walked into. The room was absolutely stuffed to its capacity with a variety of different girls. She didn't know why she didn't expect it though.

She took Harry by the arm and led them to a fairly empty corner, where they took seats.

As they waited, Hermione tried to ignore the nervous thumping of her heart. She couldn't help it though. She could imagine Draco's expression, and consequentially immediate dismissal. True, they weren't enemies anymore, but they were _barely _acquaintances.

Against her wishes, questions swarmed her. How would he react? Would she do well? Would she be able to get the money? More importantly—had she gone insane?

"Hermione." Harry's voice broke through to her.

"Hm?" she asked, looking up from her magazine that she had absentmindedly picked up.

"It's ah…upside down," he said, pointing to the magazine in her hands.

She looked down and blushed. "Oh!" She closed the book and put it back on the table just as Blaise appeared in front of the two.

"Why if it isn't Hogwart's genius, Hermione Granger," he said pleasantly, seating himself on the arm of her chair. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Oh shut up Blaise," Hermione growled.

"As the best friend of Draco Malfoy, I could dock your points for that," he teased. Blaise watched as Hermione struggled to keep her words to herself. He wouldn't call them friends, but they had said the occasional 'hello's to each other at the order headquarters in the past. He had almost forgotten how fun it was to rile her up.

"Zabini man, stop giving her a hard time," said Harry.

Blaise smirked. "Afraid she'll back out?"

"No," replied Harry, a little too quickly. He _was _in fact afraid of exactly that.

"I'm right here you know, you can stop referring to me as third person. And for your information, I will _not _back out," spoke Hermione irritated.

Blaise stood up. "Good," he said, offering his hand to Hermione. "Because it just happens to be your turn."

She pushed her shouders back, raised her chin, ignored his outstretched hand and got up on her own with as much dignity as she could muster. "Lead the way."

* * *

"Zabini, what took you so—oh, Granger, what are you doing here?" asked Draco the moment the two walked into the room.

Hermione had changed a lot since Draco had last seen her in person. Her hair was no longer as untamed. Now, it sat in rather nice cascading curls down her back. She had never been ugly. Never been absolutely stunning, save for a few occasions—but never ugly.

He could _not _however say he couldn't recognize her. Other than the fact that she still was…essentially Hermione, he had seen about a thousand of her pictures in the papers.

"What do you thi—" she stopped mid-sentence, remembering that the man in front of her held her future in his hands. She tucked her bangs behind her ear as she laced her next word with sugar, smiling sweetly at him. "Auditioning."

"Pardon?"

Hermione gritted her teeth. This was beyond embarrassing. She narrowed her eyes at Draco, who was gazing at her with a perplexed expression on his face. Blaise, on the other hand, was just barely holding back from laughing. And the female beside Draco, who she assumed to be Stephanie, seemed to be staring blankly at her. She couldn't tell if Draco was making her repeat her words purposefully.

"Auditioning," she repeated, louder this time.

"For?" smirked Draco. Now, he was just being cruel.

"To…to be your…" Hermione choked on her words.

"Yes?" Blaise finally laughed as Hermione became red as a tomato.

"Girlfriend," she gritted out. She pursed her lips.

Draco smirked. "Better."

"Honey, can we get on with this?" whined Stephanie from beside, looking at her nails.

"Yes, Granger, get on with it then."

"On with what?" she asked, stunned.

"Weren't you supposed to be smart? Your points are looking good already Granger. Stupid. Annoying. Muggleborn."

Hermione stared, but softened her glare once she realized what he had said. He hadn't even hesitated. "Muggleborn," she said aloud.

He actually smiled at her this time, realizing what she was referring to. "Yes, that would be what you are."

She nodded. "Yes. You got that right this time Malfoy."

They shared a smile.

"Not to break up the lovely moment where my dear friend Draco has finally learned to hold his tongue, but we need to move on. Room full of impatient girls out there remember? Catfight ready to ensue…" trailed off Blaise.

"Right," agreed Draco immediately.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

Finally interested, Steph raised her head up and motioned to the pole in the middle of the room. "It's all yours."

Hermione looked at the pole. Then at the three "judges".

Did they honestly think—no, no, no!

Their expressions said they did. Draco and Blaise couldn't contain their amused faces.

Sugary sweetness was down the drain. No amount of money was worth _that. _But she decided to humor them.

She raised her hands to the strings of her cloak, tugging on them so that the cloth fell in a heap on the ground. She almost laughed at their stunned expressions.

Then, she stomped forwards, slamming her hand against the table as loudly as she could. She winced, figuring it might bruise afterwards.

"Draco Malfoy!" she raged. "You do not honestly think I would do…_that _do you? Pole dancing?"

He remained mute.

"Oh my god! You did! As if," she scoffed. "I'm not some slut alright. And no 5000 galleons could put me down to that level. Do I _look _that desperate to you?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"No, don't even answer that. The answer is NO! That's worse than _begging _for money."

She was fully prepared to leave when he finally spoke.

"5000 galleons Granger. Think about what you're losing."

She whirled around, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "Money isn't everything you bastard. You're such a git. You haven't changed one bit. To you, it will always be money money and money. In case you haven't realized, that isn't all there is to life!"

She turned to Blaise, who had his hands raised in surrender. "And you! How could you condone something like this!"

"Well, you did _come _to something like this. What did you expect? A tea party?" Draco drawled.

"Oh you…you…."

"What, ferret? It's getting old don't you think?"

"No! You FERRETFACE. Let me tell you, I shouldn't have expected anything different. I wish you luck in finding whoever Malfoy, cause it won't be me. Pole dancing. Jesus! What are you auditioning for? A stripper?"

Hermione continued. "You and your family. Not a drop of sane blood let me tell you. And you called _my _blood dirty once upon a time."

"Are you done yet?"

"NO! Just shut up Malfoy! And quit laughing Zabini! God, you bloody imbeciles."

"Granger…"

"Still the same old git. And HARRY! I'm going to hex all of you into oblivion. I'm going to—"

"You have the job Granger." Draco leaned back, watching as Hermione's mouth fell open, snapped shut, fell open, snapped shut, again and again.

"What did you say?"

"You have the job," he shrugged.

"But…" she mumbled quietly, a stark contrast from her previous yelling. She looked pointedly at the pole, then at Draco.

"Who needs a stripper?" he asked simply. "My parents would go out of their mind if they had you arguing like that with them everyday. Are you sure you can consistently have a temper like that?"

Hermione glared. "MALFOY!"

He raised his hands. "I'll say yes then." He laughed and Blaise stood up with a sheet of paper.

"So Hermione, Draco, if you would just sign here and here?"

"Wait what?" stuttered Hermione.

Draco scribbled his signature in an effortless motion. "S-I-G-N Granger—or should I say, Hermione."

She gaped.

"Wow, if you gape like that all day too, this will be a done deal in a month."

Her mouth snapped shut.

She pointed her finger at him again. "You…you just called me _Hermione."_

He simply smiled and pushed the paper and pen forward.

She looked at him, then pictured Erudstrass. And maybe the little picture of Ron Weasley bubbling with jealousy too.

She took the pen and signed. Then, she walked away, retrieving her fallen cloak, and headed out the room. At the door, she paused. "It's on…_Draco."_

**ADDED ok, so comicrileef commented that they didn't know what pole dancing was, so I decided to just gve a brief explanation.**

**It's essentially what (typically) strippers do at strip clubs. A provocative dance with the pole as a prop or support.**


	4. Freedom

**This chapter isn't my best. It's one of those seemingly filler chapters, but sort of necessary at the same time or else the story wouldn't make much sense. So bear with me if you please:)**

* * *

**Freedom**

Time passed by quickly. Much too quickly for Hermione's liking. It had been a week since that day—the day that she had signed her freedom away for the next 4 months away, instead replacing it with surely grueling months at Malfoy Manor.

Oh, she knew it would be painful experience already. Every single night for the past seven days, she had been haunted by dreams—no, nightmares—of what could happen to her at this forbidden place. She had imagined all the disgusted comments, the sneers, and most certainly, the Malfoy smirk.

She shivered involuntarily.

The only good thing that had come out of these dreams was that she figured she could no longer be surprised. They could throw whatever they wanted at her. She had seen it all already anyways.

Just last night, she had dreamt that…

"Hermione?" Harry snapped his fingers in front of Hermione's trance-like gaze. "Hermione!"

"Huh? Sorry, what was that Harry?" she fumbled, blinking rapidly.

"I said," he sighed, "we have to go to Malfoy's apartment today?"

He watched, repressing a chuckle, as Hermione's head snapped up. "WHAT!" she shrieked. "No, no, no, no, _no! _Harry, we're supposed to meet him on the twentieth, and today is.." She looked at her watch. "The twentieth," she mumbled. "Damn."

Harry regarded his friend with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Don't worry Hermione," he said finally, coming up with the right words to say, "it won't be nearly half as bad as you imagined. You always overanalyze things."

She scoffed. "I hardly think that I'm overanalyzing anythi—"

Suddenly, a loud pop interrupted her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry groaned.

"Not again," muttered Harry, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Sorry mate, couldn't help it," Ron retorted. "_I,_ unlike you, couldn't stand by and watch her make the stupidest decision of her _life."_

"Technically, the decision's already been made," Harry pointed out.

"Bloody hell? Has it really? But you know, a decision can be annulled if it's proven that she made it during duress. The git probably threatened her. Yeah, that'll be it."

"Ron," groaned Harry, "just drop it. You've been doing this every day already. She's not going to change her mind."

Ron snorted. "She's not in her right mind, that's what I say."

Hermione folded her arms in front of her chest, leaning against the wall. "Hello, Ronald," she said pleasantly.

Ron sputtered. "Oh, Hermione, didn't see you there."

"It would appear so."

Ron bit his lip, seeming to consider. Hermione didn't seem mad. He paused, then decided to forge on. "Hermione. You can't do this. Are you crazy? Malfoy? Why you would even think of it, much less agree to it, is a mystery to me! This has got to be the stupidest thing you've ever done. No, this has got to be the stupidest thing ANY of us have ever done!"

"What about that time that you—" pointed out Hermione.

"Minus that time," Ron quickly interrupted, the redness rising to his face.

"Oh, and that time..." Harry began.

"That doesn't count either," he snapped.

Harry opened his mouth, but Ron started first. "Okay, okay, the stupidest thing _you or Harry _have ever done! Happy?" he mumbled.

Hermione smiled, enjoying Ron's obvious discomfort at the idea. Secretly, she was glad he cared enough to get this angry. _Does he get this riled up over something Luna does? _she briefly wondered. She banished the thought. "I think..." she began. She looked to Harry with a devilish grin. "I think that it's a great idea Ron." His mouth fell open. That encouraged her to continue. "Yes, fabulous idea really." She walked forward, pulling Harry and Ron along. "Now, if you'll excuse us Ron, we've got a meeting with Mal-" she stopped, grinning as she realized how much his name would bother Ron, "_Draco."_

Ron abruptly stopped. "Hermione, please?" The mood suddenly wasn't so fun, so teasing anymore.

He gave her a helpless expression that made Hermione pause to consider.

Call her selfish or not, but she couldn't give in. There was too much at stake for her. "Ron…" she said softly. "Please?"

"Don't do this Hermione."

"Please Ron. Just trust me on this," she begged.

"I'm not agreeing to this no matter what."

"I'm not asking you to then," she said.

He glared at her and then Harry. Finally, he took a step back, raising his wand to apparate away. "Just don't come back crying when he hurts you Hermione," he said finally in a harsh tone.

Hermione felt her face fall. She bit back the pain.

Ron sighed. "And don't let him hurt you," he whispered in a slightly more gentle tone, before disappearing.

Hermione sighed. "Well, that sort of backfired."

"Come on," said Harry, grabbing onto her arm. "Let's just go."

* * *

_Gaudy. Gaudy, gaudy, gaudy. _That was the only word Hermione could think of to describe the room that she now stood in. She felt so out of place in jeans and a tank top. It would be more fitting if she were dressed in a formal gown, and Harry in a tuxedo or suit.

She heard Harry whisper "wow" under his breath.

"Yeah," she breathed in agreement.

"Hello mister, miss," an elderly man addressed from behind the lobby counter, "what can I do for you today?"

"We're fine," assured Harry immediately. He inclined his head to the elevators, adorned with intricate engravings. "Just visiting."

The elderly didn't seem to believe Harry. Hermione wouldn't expect any different. They were as out of place here as a king was on the grimy streets of London. She could see how the two of them seemed awfully suspicious. "Who are you looking for sir? Perhaps I could be of assistance," he insisted.

Harry sighed. He hated doing this. He brushed his bangs off his forehead, and almost laughed when the man gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry mister Potter. So sorry!"

Hermione nudged him in the ribs. "You didn't need to do that," she hissed.

In front of her, the man continued, "You go right ahead mister Potter. You go right ahead."

Harry pulled Hermione along, thanking the man who couldn't seem to stop talking. "You were running late," he defended.

"Sure," said Hermione, in a clearly disapproving tone. "What floor was he on again?"

"10."

"Alright then Harry, thanks for taking me." She turned to give her friend a small embrace.

"Not a problem. I'll check on you tonight okay? And if you're not home, I'm just going to have to come looking for Malfoy." He gave Hermone a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think I'm particularly tasty Harry. He won't eat me."

Harry pretended to smack his forehead, and groaned dramatically. "That's what I've been saying all along," he moaned.

"Isn't Ginny waiting for you or something? Go. Get out of here."

* * *

Hermione now stood alone, outside Draco's massive apartment door. Weren't apartments supposed to be small? Apparently that wasn't so in the wizarding world.

She looked at the doorbell with apprehension, her finger a hair away. She was almost afraid to touch it.

She drew in a breath and pushed, hearing shuffling inside. She wrung her hands in front of her as she waited.

The door opened.

Her eyes widened. "Gaudy," she managed to mumble.

"What was that Granger?" asked the man in front of her.

She snapped out of it. "Nothing. So are you going to let me in or…"

He stepped away from the door graciously and she stepped into the room. The ostentatious, predictably green, décor was suffocating and intimidating. At the same time though, it was stylish and tasteful.

No wonder he could hire someone for 5, 000 galleons. She wasn't going to complain though.

Draco led her to a, surprisingly, not green sofa. It was white instead. When she hesitated to sit, he gently pushed her into a seating position and smiled.

_Smiled. _

Hermione was sure he was planning something now. Her forehead knitted together as she thought. Harry might just have to search him out tonight after all.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked. She couldn't detect any false sincerity so she refrained from retorting, _you. _

"Nope," she answered quickly.

"Alright then," he continued, "well, let's get started then I guess."

She nodded as he began.

As time passed, she let her eyes flutter to a close as his soothing voice droned on and on. The clock ticking seemed louder than anything else to her ears.

Suddenly, the glass coffee table in front of her shook at the impact of Draco's hand.

She looked up to Draco's sneer. It was back. She was safe. She smiled. "Yes?"

"Are you paying attention?" His nose wrinkled in disgust as he waited for an answer. This suddenly reminded her of potions class with Snape in her school days. Except without the greasy hair. Hermione chuckled.

"Care to share what's so funny?" he drawled, obviously annoyed now. He fell into the space beside her on the couch, and she made room for him immediately. It was oddly comfortable. Not awkward as she had suspected it would be.

"I was just…comparing you to….Snape." As she said the words, she realized how absurd she sounded. Draco was nothing like Snape.

He seemed to be sure of that too, as he snorted loudly. "You're out of your mind Granger. More the better for me, I guess. Just pay attention, you have to know what my parents expect in my girlfriend."

Hermione leaned back, turning her head to the side to face him. "Why though? I though I was supposed to annoy them."

"You are, but you need to know what they want so you _don't _do that."

She nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense." She continued quietly, "in some weird twisted way."

He ignored her obvious slight. "Good, so pay attention." He went on.

"..him. So, never call my mother Narcissa. Unless she tells you to. It's considered an insult and as for—"

"Hey, M-Draco?"

He stopped short, both in his words and in pacing. "Yes?"

"Do you think you could call me Hermione?"

"I will, when we're around my parents," he paused, seeming to consider. "It sounds weird. Granger sounds better."

"But—yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Is that all?"

"Do you mind if I call you Draco though? I just want to get used to it so I don't slip up."

"I suppose that's okay."

"Okay Draco, do continue Draco."

He smirked.

"Draco?" she asked.

"I know my name sounds good, but you don't need to overuse it. Too much is overkill."

She blushed. "Right. Go on," she mumbled, before falling silent.

"Right then."


	5. Meeting The Parents

**Harry Potter is, sadly, ne mine pas.**

**French.**

**Beloved(not) second language mandatory for Canadians.**

* * *

**Meeting the Parents**

Hermione stood outside her apartment complex, two large suitcases on either side of her, waiting for a certain Malfoy to come pick her up.

She checked her watch, glancing just as the numbers turned to 11:00. A loud screech forced her to instinctively jump back, her head snapping up.

She wasn't standing beside an empty street anymore. In front of her was a sleek black limo, which had seemingly appeared from thin air. Hermione knew better though.

The doors swung open, and she bent down to look inside. Malfoy sat there, his appearance immaculate and cool; his hair was neat, his face composed as he sat leaning against the back of his seat.

"Mal—Draco," she acknowledged, her habitual name for him nearly leaking out.

"Granger."

She returned upright, now conscious of truly how different her and Draco's worlds seemed to be. Even now, on a mere trip to his childhood home, he was dressed in a dress shirt and fitting slacks. She, however, was dressed in a sweater and jeans. She didn't let that bother her though, as she used all her strength to lift up one of the two heavy suitcases. She wasn't supposed to be the perfect girlfriend anyways.

She struggled her way to the trunk of the car, stumbling under the weight of her bags. "Gentleman my arse," she muttered and she finally released the bag. The car shook under the impact.

Hermione waited a few seconds to see if Draco was going to help. Apparently not.

She strode over to the other bag and pulled it on its wheels to the back of the car. Then she lifted it and dropped it, too, into the trunk, purposefully making the car shake as much as possible in frustration. She lived in a muggle neighborhood—therefore, no magic was allowed.

She slammed the trunk shut with as much force as possible. Then she fell into the seat beside Draco.

"Thanks for helping," she muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Don't you have like, a chauffeur, or something?"

He turned to regard her and shrugged. "Yes," he said simply.

Hermione felt that the man beside her was a whole different person than who he had been the night before, but didn't dwell on it. She honestly couldn't care much about Draco's behaviour, as long as he acted well enough and didn't give her too much of a hard time.

The ride passed by in an awkward silence. Several times, Draco tried to think of something to say, but ended up disregarding the idea. He knew he should have helped Hermione with her things, or at least instructed the driver to, but he felt the sudden inexplicable need to become his old Slytherin self. He looked over at Hermione's sleeping form, her head bouncing on the hard surface of the tinted windows. He grimaced, knowing the road to his house was nothing _but _bumpy.

_Granger, _he thought helplessly, shaking his head. Well, he wouldn't apologize for his previous actions, but he could make it up to her. An apple for an apple, in a way. He transfigured a wine glass into a fluffy cushion, before easing it into the space between her head and the window pane.

There. Now maybe his guilt would stop eating at him.

* * *

The ride to Malfoy Manor wasn't a long one—at least, not at the speed in which they were traveling. Soon enough, the limo pulled to a stop. Jolted by the sudden movement, Hermione woke up.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes fluttering open, her cheeks rosy from her short nap.

"We're here," he answered, this time in a less detached tone. He seemed to be in a better mood.

Hermione noticed the pillow that had fallen onto the floor. She chose not to mention it, and Draco was glad for that.

She rubbed her eyes. "Let the games begin," she grumbled tiredly.

"You got that right," chuckled Draco.

She took a step out of the limo and took in her surroundings. The garden was majestic, with a fountain in the front emitting soothing sounds of rushing water. In the distance, she could see the open meadow, and that made her smile.

Maybe it wasn't going to be that—

She turned around.

Oh, it was going to be _that _bad. The house loomed over her, and she felt exactly as she had when she had first caught sight of Hogwart's castle in the small tiny boats in her first year. She was speechless. It was breathtaking.

The house was gorgeous—white, and shining. _Shining._ It had immense windows that seemed twice as tall as the house was big. Very big.

"Granger."

And scary. Yes, the house was definitely scary.

"Granger."

And—

"GRANGER!"

"Coming!" she yelled back, running to catch up with Draco.

When she fell into step with in, she couldn't help but look around. The entrance was huge.

Draco noticed her amazement. "What was the word you used last night? Oh yes, gaudy isn't it?"

She could hear the tease in his voice, but blushed nonetheless. "You heard that? Sorry."

"Oh no, it is. That's partly why I don't live here anymore."

By now, they were right up at the door now. She turned around. "Well, it's not really…what are those?"

He looked to where she was pointing. "Albino peacocks. Decorations my mother bought."

"Decorations? Peacocks?" He nodded. "Live peacocks? As decorations?" He gave a sheepish smile. "Okay, I'm sorry, but yes, it is gaudy." She was relieved when she heard him laugh. "Just wondering, what's the other reason you don't live here anymore?"

As if to answer her, the door suddenly opened. A slender, and unquestionably beautiful woman stepped, with grace, into view.

She blinked her scrutinizing blue eyes and seemingly glided forwards, her thin arms embracing Draco. Her pink lips transformed into a smile.

"Oh Draco dear! Oh my baby!"

Hermione stifled a laugh.

Narcissa pulled back, pushing her long blonde hair behind her shoulders with one hand as the other pinched Draco's cheek.

"That," he mumbled to Hermione, "is the reason why."

"You look thinner than the last time you returned Draco," the woman complained, her features forming a frown. "Have you been eating?" she asked in a clearly disapproving tone. "Baby, you have to eat."

"I _have _been eating mother," he replied as he discreetly stepped out of her grasp. "Is father here?"

At the mention of Lucius Malfoy, her eyes seemed to brighten. "Oh yes! Your father will love to see you! Splendid idea!" She clapped a small clap with her hands as she did a small jump, turning around enthusiastically. "Looouu!"

_This, _thought Hermione, _can _not _be Narcissa Malfoy. I am clearly hallucinating. _

Just as Hermione's thought finished, a man appeared at the door, his hand around Narcissa's thin waist. This one, though, Hermione clearly recognized. The slicked back long blonde hair. The sneering, disdainful face. The disgusting reek of well…Malfoy…

"Yes, hello son. It's good to see you haven't forgotten your parents," he said, in the same cool tone. Apparently, the man hadn't changed much. He flicked his hair back.

Hermione snorted out loud at the girlish motion. _Clearly, this was what you get for having hair longer than my own, _she thought.

Her noise caused Lucius to turn towards her. She looked up into a familiar pair of scrutinizing gray stormy eyes. Like father, like son—or like the son once was. "And who's this? Oh, I recognize you. You're that Granger girl."

Hermione cocked her head to the side. Last nights lesson rang in her head.

She regarded the two older people coolly, refusing to show them how uncomfortable she truly was. She kept her voice even. "Lucius," she nodded at the man, "Narcissa."

Draco bit back a smile as he watched his parent's shocked expressions. Nobody had ever addressed them in that manner before. He played on with the act. "Oh, father, mother, this is my _girlfriend_, Hermione Granger."

He purposely nudged her, making a show of it, and she clumsily offered her hand to the Lucius and Narcissa. They merely stared.

"Oh," she mumbled. "Right." She wiped her hands on her jeans and stuck it out again, trying her hardest not to laugh. She wished she could capture the moment.

Narcissa was the first to recover. She hesitantly shook hands with Hermione, barely touching her as she forced a smile. "Um…nice to meet you…Her—" she gulped, "mione."

Hermione ignored the hesitation happily. "Oh you too Narcissa. It's nice to finally meet you." She watched as Narcissa smiled, and it was blatantly obvious that she happy to hear that her son had talked about her. "Is your husband going to shake my hand? Or should I just take it back?" Hermione then asked. Narcissa's smile dropped. She nudged her reluctant husband.

"Granger," he acknowledged as he too reached his hand forward.

"Finally," huffed Hermione. "Do you mind if I come in?" she asked politely. She took Draco by the hand, smiling lovingly at him. "Come on Draco, you said you'd show me around!"

Draco nearly laughed at her expression. Hermione was a better actress than people assumed she was. "Alright," he laughed. He turned to address his parents. "We'll be down for dinner. Do you mind if Hermione shares my room?" he asked. Hermione though, didn't allow him time to wait for an answer, hurriedly pulling him into the Manor.

"Bye Lucius, bye Narcissa!" she called back, leaving two very stunned parents in the entrance of their own home. All in all, it was exactly the horrible first impression that they had planned.

* * *

"Well played Granger," commented Draco, releasing Hermione's hand the moment they were out of eyesight and earshot. "Always knew Potter wasn't the only one with a bit of Slytherin in him."

"I _think _that's a compliment."

He shrugged. "Take it however you like." He led her up the stairs from the front foyer, which was more of a small ballroom than anything else.

"You're awful Draco, you know that?" she chuckled as she mentally made a map of the Manor in her head. It wouldn't do well to get lost in a place like this.

"Oh, I know." He led her down a hall, and then another, and then another—all of which looked exactly the same. She was hopeless in a place like this.

"Did you see my father's expression?"

"Oh yes! He either looked like he was going to pass out, or he was going to make _me _pass out."

"Very funny," he said dully.

"So that was _the _Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy eh? They weren't half as bad as I had remembered."

"Things change."

"Yeah," she gazed at Draco, smirking. "I guess they do." He ignored her, rounding another corner.

"This," he finally stopped, "is my room."

She waited for more. "Okay…and where's mine?" she asked.

He laughed, thinking she was joking. His laughed died when it dawned on his that she was serious.

Hermione felt as if she had stopped breathing. "Oh. My. God. Malfoy, you were _not _serious back there. I am NOT sleeping in the same room as you, much less the same bed. No, that wasn't in the agreement!" She took a step away from him.

"SH!" he hissed. "And it _was _in the agreement."

"Was not!"

"Fine print."

"Slytherin thing to do," she retorted angrily. "It doesn't matter. There's no way I'm sleeping with you."

"Oh, don't get your hopes up Granger."

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT THAT WAY!" she bellowed. Her voice echoed.

"QUIT YELLING!" he retorted, equally as loud.

She folded her arms across her chest protectively. "Now who's loud?"

Draco looked around, making sure no one was there. He pulled her closer. "Listen, Granger, there's no way around it. I'm not particularly happy about it either, but my parents _will _check."

"Why would they check?"

"Because they'll want to make sure we're actually together. You really expect them to believe it because of some introductions?"

Ignoring his logic, she placed both her hands on his chest and roughly pushed him away. "Isn't it like…some old fashioned tradition that unmarried couples," she pointed between them, "_don't _sleep in the same room?"

"Yes," he said slowly, "which is why we _will _sleep in the same room."

"But..but…" Hermione faltered.

"Come on Granger, have a little Gryffindor bravery will you. I mean, you faced my _parents _already. I'm not going to bite."

"That's not what I'm afraid of," she muttered quietly.

He smirked. "And I'm not going to have my way with you," he said. "Girlfriend remember?"

She didn't respond but Draco could see that she was admitting defeat. She angrily pushed the door open and walked into the room. She didn't even blink at the décor anymore. "Stupid Malfoy. Stupid me. Damnit," she stomped.

He let her throw her mini-tantrum, deciding that now maybe wasn't the best time to tell her what _else _was in the fine print. Say perhaps, some kissing.

He grimaced, both at the idea of it in itself, and in anticipation of her reaction.

**I know Narcissa and Lucius are OOC. This is my universe.**


	6. Morning After

**Okay, so I'm VERY unhappy right now. Because, I'm used to breaking my parts with dashes, apparently, THEY DON'T SHOW UP ANYMORE. **

**It's hard, because the format on word is SO much different than what it appears as here.**

* * *

**Morning After**

"Your finger is on my side," whispered Hermione as she stared intently at the offending object in the darkness of the night. "Move it."

Draco forced one heavy eyelid open and shifted to his side to face her. "Jesus Christ, Granger." He closed his eye again.

"I _said," _she repeated, more forcefully this time in a hushed tone, "your finger, is on _my _side of the bed."

He groaned. "Yes, I know what you said. Now ask me if I care," he mumbled, barely coherently.

She pushed herself up, in the process, pulling the blanket off Draco's upper body. "I'm warning you _Malfoy,_" she seethed, her eyes hard, flicking from his face to his finger.

He mumbled half heartedly, and pulled the blanket back up.

"Draco."

No response.

"Draco," she said again, this time in her normal volume. She waited before continuing. "You asked for it," she muttered, before bringing her fist down on his pinky as hard as she could.

He yelped loudly, springing upward. "FUDGING—!" He was awake now as he pulled his hand back, his finger throbbing in pain. "What the _hell _did you do that for woman?" he asked angrily, subduing his volume so that his parents in the room down the hall wouldn't hear. He nursed his pulsing finger. "I think it's broken."

Hermione shrugged, although secretly inside, she was smiling. She pointed at the bed. "We agreed on this. Half the bed is yours," she drew the line between the two halves, "and the other half is mine. You were on my half."

"God," he muttered beneath his breath. He held his sore finger in his hand. "Well, I'm sorry if I couldn't see the _invisible _line while I was _sleeping._"

"That's your problem, not mine."

He closed his eyes, too drained to continue debating. "What is your problem Granger? How am I supposed to control what I do while I sleep?"

"My problem? Didn't we just establish you were the one that had the problem? I don't care how you control yourself Draco, just do it on _your side of the bed."_

He fell back down onto the bed, his head hitting the pillow. In the dimness of the night, he could still make out the sitting silhouette of Hermione. "How many times have I told you tonight—" He checked the glowing clock on the table beside him: 1:24. "—or rather, yesterday night," he groaned, "that I am not going to _touch _you Granger, unless I absolutely have to."

"Absolutely have to," she pointed out, "can have many different meanings. I'm not willing to try out any of the meanings."

He threw his hands up into the air. "Oh, for the love of—"

"Just don't invade my personal bubble and you'll be fine. Better yet, don't even _touch _my personal bubble." She simulated the shape of a circle with her hands, but he wasn't watching. He had his eyes closed, but his hands were held firmly in front of him.

He didn't want to ask, but he couldn't stop himself at the same time. "And what if I do, _by accident?" _He emphasized the last words.

Hermione leaned over him, her eyes narrowing as she waited for him to open his. He did so, and she continued, her tone threatening. "If you do, whether it's an accident or not, I'll hex you."

He raised one eyebrow, clearly amused. "You'll hex me?" He smirked.

"No, I'll hex your balls." She pushed her finger into his chest. "Right." She stabbed again. "Off."

His eyes widened as he saw the look on her face. "Bloody hell, I'm sleeping beside a mad-woman." And she looked the part too. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face flushed from sleep and anger, and her eyes were shooting daggers at his body as if she might actually take a real dagger out from behind her back. "I might as well sleep on the floor then."

Hermione's pursed lips broke out into a grin. "Good idea." And then, without hesitation, she pushed an unsuspecting Draco right off the bed.

He landed with such a thump that he was sure his parents would hear. Hear—and believe he was doing _something_—definitely not getting pushed off his bed by his girlfriend though.

He clambered up angrily. "Yeah right, Granger. I don't think so. If you're so scared, you sleep on the floor," he spat.

"We already _had _this argument, remember?" she said tiredly. "I'm not sleeping on the floor."

"Neither am I." And to prove his point, he plopped himself back onto his side of the bed. To push it even further, he stuck his left leg on top of her legs, fully into her section.

She shrieked, and before he could even react, she had her wand pointed at him. More specifically, his lower half. "Don't make me do this Draco," she warned.

Slowly, acknowledging defeat, he pulled his leg back and raised his hands in surrender. "Nothing on your side." He stared at the wand, wavering in the air. "Your personal bubble. Got it. Right. Sleeping time for me." And with that, he promptly lay down, and turned from her, edging away as far as he could.

Hermione watched him for a few minutes, before sighing, and tucking her wand back beneath her pillow—just in case. She _was _sleeping with a Slytherin. It could never hurt to be prepared.

She laid down as well, her back to Draco. She, too, went immediately to the edge of her side, putting as much distance between him and herself as possible. Unfortunately, the one blanket they shared couldn't stress that distance.

She tugged at it, but it still only covered half of her. She yanked.

He yanked back.

She pulled again.

He pulled back.

She tugged again.

"Oh, to hell with this," she heard Draco mutter, before she was able to bring the entire blanket to her side. She smiled, satisfied, snuggled deeper into the soft mattress and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. This battle, she had won. But she knew, it was only one of many to come.

* * *

Now, Draco Malfoy was not a morning person. Not at all. He was known for waking up well into the morning, and lying in bed until at least noon before actually getting up.

The thing is, when one sleeps on the very edge of the bed in fear of his anatomical parts being blown off, _without a blanket _too, it puts a very different perspective on things.

Draco grinned.

"Rise and shine Granger," he boomed. Hermione visibly winced, automatically pulling her covers over her head. Beneath the blanket—his blanket—she murmured her incomprehensible response which sounded remarkably similar to a groan.

He chuckled quietly, taking out his wand. Revenge was a sweet, sweet thing.

"Wingardi.." he murmured quietly, grinning ear to ear as the covers pulled out of Hermione's hand and floated into the air.

Hermione involuntarily shivered, grasping the air where her blanket had previously been with her eyes still squeezed tightly together. She rolled to her right, trying to find her missing blanket. Again she shivered, the cold air tingling her flushed cheeks. It was nearly a minute before she flew upright, her eyes popping open. "Hey!"

The sudden movement surprised him though, as he instinctively dropped his hand. The covers fell over Hermione, reducing her to a lump beneath the large piece of cloth. She struggled underneath, and in one blind movement, landed with a thump on the ground.

His laughter grew, even as he counted down the impending eruption in his mind. 3. 2. and—

"DRRAACCCOOO MALLLLFFOOOOY!"

He grimaced. "You're not much of a morning person are you?"

She roughly pushed the blanket off her head and huffed, blowing strands of stray hair off her face.

"Guess not," he shrugged, answering himself. He watched as Hermione pushed herself up, dumping the blanket in a heap on the bed before pushing past him towards the washroom. He knew, without a doubt, that she would make the bed when she came out. He didn't know how he knew it, but he knew. It was just something that she would do. Seeing as that was the case, he didn't think twice about plopping himself onto his bed, leaning back as he waited. He was already ready, due to his uncharacteristically early morning.

In a matter of minutes, the door opened once again. Hermione leaned against the door frame in a fresh set of clothes, her hair pulled back in a high ponytail, as she brushed her teeth. "So, whachdoingtoheh?" she gurgled.

"I could pretend I understood that," he said, "but I won't. By the way, I still plan to get you back for last night."

She ignored him, returning to the washroom to rinse her mouth.

"I was about to assume the wake up call was revenge enough."

"That was just the beginning," he said.

"It's never going to end, knowing us."

"I have a better idea. How about we…re-discuss….these terms?"

Hermione considered the situation. "Okay." She conjured a chair across from his position on the bed.

He nodded, revenge already evaporated from his mind. "First and foremost, you can only talk to Blaise and me about the plan. We're the only ones that know."

"Obviously," she agreed.

"You get 5,000 galleons if you make my dad say that I can marry anyone but you."

"So I just have to piss him off enough," said Hermione. "Okay. I get these parts. Let's focus more on details."

"We share the bed," he began, "but with _two _blankets. So we _each _get one." He glared, and she feigned innocence.

"Fine," she replied happily.

He lifted his left hand, checking the points off on his fingers as he went. With this action, she noticed his bandaged pinky.

He followed her gaze.

"Did I do that?" she asked quietly.

He raised his hand, inspecting his finger. "Yes. You're stronger than I thought you to be, Granger," he said offhandedly, but Hermione wasn't buying it.

She flooded with guilt. "Oh my god, are you alright? Is it broken? You said it was broken last night but I thought you were kidding." She bit her lip nervously.

"Yes, and then no."

"I'm so sorry." She frowned, taking his hand into hers, as she looked at his swollen finger.

"With you, I'm inclined to believe that you actually are. For future references though, I probably won't be sorry for anything I do."

Hermione dropped his hand roughly. "Well, if you're talking like that, then I guess you really are fine." She looked at his finger again, and sighed. "You really are okay though?"

"A bruised finger isn't going to kill me," he said, with a small smile. "As much as you want it to."

"Believe it or not, I don't." She smiled too. "Where would the fun be in that?"

He chuckled. "Anyways, I probably deserved it."

She opened her mouth to protest—an automatic reaction, but he interrupted her. "You can have the washroom first in the mornings," he went on with the list, "but I get it first in the nights."

He paused. "Unless you want it the other way around? I just figured girls…in the morning…"

Hermione bit her lip to keep from bursting out in laughter. "No, it's fine," she said hurriedly, "continue."

"Well, if my parents come in, we have to pretend we sleep together regularly."

"Right. I figured anyways. Can I have visitors?"

"Weasel?" Draco sneered.

She ignored it. "Just Harry, I suppose."

He considered. "Fine. So long as he plays along."

"Oh he will," she answered, "he was the one who got me into this into the first place."

"Ah, Potter, Potter, Potter," laughed Draco. He stopped laughing upon seeing the thoughtful expression on Hermione's face. "What?"

"Draco.." she started.

He waited cautiously.

"You know how last night, you mentioned…fine print?"

He gulped and she knew she had him.

"Can I see our contract for a moment please?"

He slowly reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the piece of parchment halfway. "Okay, you saw it." He tucked it back in.

Hermione folded her arms and waited patiently.

He sighed in resignation, and handed her the paper.

She took it, and squinted to read the fine lettering.

Draco prepared himself for another eruption, this time though—a much bigger one.

His heart pounded in his chest as he imagined all the things Hermione could do to him.

Then calmly, Hermione handed the paper back to him. "Okay."

Draco winced, taking the sheet back and began his plead. "I'm sorry, I'm—wait. Okay?"

She shrugged and stood up. "Okay," she affirmed.

"Did you just say okay?" he stuttered.

"Yes. Okay."

"Did you not read it or something? Are you blind? Are you okay?"

"I read it, I'm not blind and I'm fine. Thanks for asking." She even smiled.

It was scary.

"Who are you and what have you done to Hermione Granger?"

"Are you _trying _to make me mad at you?"

"But….kissing? You read that part didn't you. Kissing _me. _You hate me remember?"

"I don't hate you."

"You dislike me then."

"Can't argue with the truth."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Look," said Hermione, "It's not like I didn't expect you to pull something like this okay? Yesterday caught me by surprise, but no more. Besides, it says if it's absolutely necessary. We'll just have to make sure it's not necessary then."

"And how do you suppose we do that?"

"Brightest students of our year. I'm sure we can figure something else."

"Really."

"That, and some breakfast would help. Let's go."

She walked towards the door, but Draco's next words made her stop.

"You know, Granger, I think you'd really enjoy kissing me."

She turned around to see that he seemed to be jesting. She played along. "Really now? Sure of yourself aren't you."

He grinned. "Yes, I think that you'll be doing everything you can to make kissing me necessary."

At that, Hermione actually snorted. "Yeah, in your dreams Malfoy. Come on, let's go. It's time to make your parents blow steam out of their ears again."

"Ah, one of the many joys of life."


	7. Shopping

**Ok, so this is very exciting. I've never had a story with nearly 80 reviews in the first…5? 6? chapters.**

**Thanks to all that reviewed last chapter, and CONTINUE! :) **

* * *

**Shopping**

The Malfoy dining room. Only a family like the Malfoy's would use their dining room to eat _breakfast. _

Hermione, led by Draco, walked into the room. The colossal dining room.

She briefly wondered whether it could really be called a dining room. If it were up to her, she would just call it a really really big room with a really really big table in it. And that was what it literally was. A large room, with a table that could sit an army. The décor of the room no longer surprised her, as she had long since realized that the whole mansion was a showcase of the Malfoys' wealth. But bloody…

"How many people live here again?" she whispered to Draco, purposely leaning into him so that her mouth was only centimeters from his ear. She had her left hand in his right, and her other hand went around to his shoulder to support herself.

She could feel Lucius and Narcissa's eyes following their every movement.

Today was important. Hermione and Draco had no doubt that his parents doubted their relationship, and they had to prove to them that they were real.

He turned his head to Hermione so that now it was their mouths that were barely apart. "Three," he whispered back, his warm breath tingling her skin at such proximity.

She forced a smile, but Draco could feel her grasp tightening on his hand. "What are you doing?" she hissed, their breaths mingling.

He shivered and leaned in slowly, his stormy grey eyes never leaving hers.

Hermione didn't know what to do.

Draco could feel the sweat beading on her hands against the deathly grip. He was almost amused that she was scared. Almost. But this wasn't the time to think about that.

They were a moment away from touching now. _Anytime now.._thought Draco impatiently.

Somebody cleared their throat. Lucius Malfoy looked at his son in disgust.

Draco jumped back, feigning surprise. He immediately let go of Hermione's hands. He didn't, however, blush and stutter, because that wasn't something that he would do. "Father," he addressed coolly, years of practice coaxing his easy lie, "we didn't see you there."

He was glad to see that Hermione truly looked utterly bewildered. He wasn't sure whether she was acting or not, but nevertheless, it suited.

It only took a moment for her to pick up. She opened her mouth to acknowledge the presence of the two seniors, but at last moment, turned towards Draco.

"Oops." She smiled at him.

Draco smiled back, hoping to god that it looked like an adoring expression. He wasn't so sure.

Hermione turned away from the sickeningly sweet smile-fest and took a seat at the head of the table before Lucius had a chance to stop her. If she supposed correctly, the seat she had taken would have been…

"That's my seat," eyed Lucius.

Hermione pretended to be surprised. "Oh, I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, before stepping out of the seat and into the seat beside.

"And that's mine," said Narcissa.

"Totally my bad!"

Soon, the four of them had taken their _appropriate _seats. Hermione had learned that the seats actually had names engraved on them. Literally, it actually was _their _seat.

"So, Miss Granger, tell us about yourself."

She nodded. "Hello," she began impishly, with a little wave, "my name is Hermione."

Draco suppressed a grin. Now, she was just acting stupid. He shifted his chair closer to hers and put an arm around her, careful to make a show of it. He noticed his father's disdainful expression.

Hermione continued on, pretending not to notice, when in reality, she was terribly uncomfortable. He was too close. Too near. "I'm…muggleborn."

Lucius tried not to flinch, and gritted his teeth into a smile.

"I'm an only child."

"Oh, Draco is too!" Narcissa exclaimed, grasping onto the only similarity.

"My parents are dentists."

"What's that?"

"Sort of like…healers, for teeth."

Lucius snorted. "What type of silly job is that? Why would teeth need healers?"

Hermione ignored him.

"What do you do for a living?"

Hermione almost laughed. "Absolutely nothing."

Narcissa and Lucius, however, didn't find it so amusing.

After that, conversation was soon dulled into nothing as breakfast appeared. Throughout, Hermione and Draco whispered nonsense into each other's ears, giggling appropriately in Hermione's case. It was eerily quiet in the grand room.

"Draco, what happened to your finger?" Narcissa asked, concern filling her voice. She seemingly glided over to stand beside her son, brushing her blonde hair back as she took up his left hand. "It wasn't there before was it?"

"No, mother," Draco said. He racked his brain.

"When did it happen then?"

Draco froze.

Hermione sensed this. "Last night," she supplied quietly.

Lucius spoke up. "Last night? What happened last night?"

Draco suddenly smiled, remembering conversations with his best friend back in the last year of school, Blaise Zabini. "Oh, surely you don't want me to tell you what happened last _night _father."

Hermione was as red as a tomato, more from anger than from anything else. She was embarrassed because of the implied meaning.

Draco's response seemed to have stunned Lucius and Narcissa. It was as though they didn't expect them to be having an intimate relationship. They weren't...but his parents didn't know that.

"Well, in bed.." Draco began, ignoring Hermione's obvious anger at him.

"Enough!" bellowed Lucius. "Enough."

It was a while before a third voice was heard.

"Absolutely horrendous," murmured Narcissa as she forked another small piece of sausage into her mouth. She chewed quietly, before swallowing. "Appalling," she repeated.

Draco knew the words were for him to hear, and he had to will a smirk not to appear.

"What is so appalling?" Hermione asked to the elder woman. "My background?"

"Not so much. Times have changed now. Muggleborns, purebloods, it's not so much of a big deal anymore."

Hermione fumbled for words. "Then, my parents?"

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly judge their profession when I don't understand what they do."

"Then…my lack of profession."

"Oh hush child! It is a well known fact that you helped Harry Potter in the defeat of you-know-who, and that you were the brightest witch in Hogwarts, second to my Draco of course. I highly doubt that you couldn't get a job if you wanted one."

Hermione frowned. If it wasn't her background, her parents, or her lack of job, then…

"What is so appalling then?"

Narcissa shook her head as if it were obvious. "Look at you!"

"Me?"

"What are you wearing? It is absolutely disgraceful. And look at your face."

Hermione touched her face. "My face?"

"It's CLEAR!"

"It's…clear?" She looked around. "Is that a bad thing?"

Draco looked confused as well. "It's horrendous! No make up whatsoever! How can you go around like that!"

Hermione stuttered. "Um, I don't really like make up?"

Narcissa gasped, uttering a high pitched noise before fanning herself with her hand. "Draco, this will simply not do."

* * *

That was how a simple breakfast, had resulted in _this. _This cruel torture.

Hermione opened the door and stepped out, preparing for yet _another _squeal. Her anticipation was not wasted.

"Wonderful!"

Draco, sitting in the corner, finally spoke up. "Oh, you cannot possibly be serious. She looks like a freaking—"

"If you continue, Draco Malfoy, I will personally hex…" she trailed off as he raised his hands to his mouth and pretended to zip them.

He sat back down and opened his book.

Narcissa walked up to her son's girlfriend and looked her up and down. "Yes, I think we should get this one too."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Hermione. "This is horrendous."

In actuality, it wasn't quite so bad as horrendous. It was bad though. The reason? One word. Frills.

"It is _not_!" defended Narcissa. Hermione had learned, about 3 hours ago when they had first started this torture, that the best way to get to Narcissa was to insult her sense of fashion. And in all honestly, it wasn't a hard thing for Hermione to do.

"But Narcissa, it's a skirt!"

"Ladies should wear skirts!"

"Ladies should wear whatever they want," said Hermione.

"Absolutely not!"

"Well then, I'm not a lady," said Hermione, walking back into the change room to take the _frilly _skirt off. At least it wasn't pink. She had been arguing with Narcissa all the way, and most of the time, won the arguments. She wasn't stubborn as hell for nothing.

"I'm not getting it Narcissa!" she yelled through the door as she hung the fabric over the top.

She struggled with her pants, climbing into them, before stepping out of the changeroom. "Are we done yet?"

"We're getting it."

"We are not."

"We are!"

"We are not!"

"Just give in Hermione," laughed Malfoy. Hermione glared while Narcissa beamed. "You're not going to win."

Narcissa didn't wait another moment, as she bounded over to the paying counter. Draco and Hermione trailed behind.

"You did not just say that! You know I could have won," Hermione accused immediately.

"Of course, but I want to go home. So just let her buy it."

"I can't believe I got roped into playing doll for a mother who never birthed a female," sighed an exasperated Hermione. "It's all your fault for being male."

From the corner of her eye, she caught Narcissa staring. She casually used Draco for support.

He laughed. "I thought every girl loved shopping."

"Did you SEE what she made me try on? I looked like a peacock in one of them."

"Oh, worse. A teapot in one. Your ass was huge."

Hermione hit him playfully, and he fixed her hair, smoothing the sides down at an angle that was clear in view of Narcissa. "I better get an extra 100 galleons for this," she muttered jokingly.

Draco put his hand over his chest. "I _buy _you clothes, and I have to pay you to keep them?"

Hermione chuckled. "That's the idea."

"You honestly don't have it that bad. You should have seen what my mother and my last girlfriend came back with. Of course, she was a lot more willing. I would have given up long ago if I were my mother."

"Sh," hissed Hermione. She sighed, deciding that maybe she ought to give Narcissa a break, as Draco hinted. "Thank you Narcissa. For all the clothes. Although I don't promise I'll wear all of them."

Narcissa seemed to sense that that was the best she was going to get, because she nodded.

"To the next stop then."

"I thought you said that was the last shop!" Hermione suddenly exploded, her patience wearing thin.

"She _said,_" Draco laughed, "that was the last _clothing _shop."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest. "Aren't guys supposed to hate shopping? Aren't they supposed to force the women to return and _stop _buying things? You aren't helping," she hinted desperately.

Maybe it was his revenge. She certainly thought it was at least, because he simply said, "not this man."

* * *

"I look like a clown."

"I look like I have a black eye."

"Now, I look like I have two black eyes."

"I look like I just drank blood."

"I look like I'm dead. I'm…white."

"I look like a monster."

Draco bent down to Hermione's ear. "You are a monster dear."

She rolled her eyes. "Not as much of one as you are," she smiled, before looking to Narcissa. "I tried this all when I was 16, and I tired of it when I was 16 and a half, Narcissa. Make up, just doesn't go with me."

"No, no, no! There must be something. Go wash that of and come back."

Hermione obediently headed off to the washroom. "Don't be surprised if I get kidnapped," she hissed to Draco as she passed him.

When she returned, her face tingled. It was probably the tenth time she had washed it in the last hour. "Are we nearly finished yet?" she complained.

Narcissa ignored her, turning to the artist. "Try for something more natural." She paused. "Much more natural."

Hermione closed her eyes yet again, feeling as if a canvas being painted on.

"I don't understand why women spend so much time painting their faces," she muttered, just loud enough for Narcissa to hear. She hoped she was causing the older woman embarrassment. She didn't so much care for herself. She would probably never come to such an expensive store again in her lifetime anyways.

"It's so useless and disgusting—"

"Finished!" interrupted the make up artist, who eyed Hermione with distaste. Hermione eyed the woman back. The girl looked like her face was going to fall off from all the paste and powder.

Hermione stared into the mirror. She had to admit that it didn't look too bad. No clown. No black eye. No blood. Alive. No monster. That was a good sign.

She relented.

"Okay, the eyeliner and the lipgloss. That's as good as it's going to get," she bargained.

Narcissa nodded enthusiastically. "Blush too, and then it's a deal."

The woman struck a hard bargain, but Hermione was tired. "Deal."

They shook hands. Maybe Narcissa wasn't so bad after all.


	8. SPEW

**Love every single review!**

* * *

**S.P.E.W.**

Dinner.

Shopping had taken up most of the afternoon, much to Hermione's displeasure, and by the time they got back, it was nearly dinner.

Hermione, followed by Draco and Narcissa, stepped into the dining room. Again, she repeated to herself, the really big dining room.

Hermione nearly jumped when the chair she had been sitting at that morning moved to allow her to sit.

"W-why is it doing that?" she stuttered.

"It has your name on it," answered Draco, pointing to the engraved letters in the wooden chair. "It recognizes you."

"A chair…recognizes…me?"

Draco laughed. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, but that's just freaky."

It was at that moment at Lucius entered, looking displeased. He briskly took his seat, acknowledging everyone briefly. Hermione, with the briefest acknowledgement.

And then, the house-elves entered, carrying trays and dishes of variety. Meats, vegetables, soups and such. It was like a Hogwarts feast, without nearly as many people or the homey environment. Her earlier observation at breakfast that the dining room could hold an army was not made without basis. They had enough food to feed one too.

Hermione netted her hands together in her lap as she watched the creatures place the dishes onto the table. She tried not to let the delicious aroma get to her. "So," she began, "have you heard about S.P.E.W.?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but stopped seeing the look his mother pointedly sent him.

"Spew?" asked Narcissa, clearly happy that Hermione had advocated a conversation.

"No, S. P. E. W."

"I've never heard of it," said Narcissa kindly. She found that she could tolerate the girl. She had to admit that Hermione was a little annoying at times, stubborn always, but also always smart and would put up a fight. She wasn't sure if that was something to be admired or not. The day had been tiring, but in some ways, entertaining.

Hermione smiled oblivious to Narcissa's thoughts. "Not many have. It's an organization I started. So far, you could say that I'm the only one in it. The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

Narcissa looked confused.

Draco stepped in. "It's for promoting better treatment of elves. Mostly, House-elves."

Hermione was truly surprised that he knew, but kept the shock down and pretended it was natural. "Yes."

"Oh, please, like those filthy creatures need to be treated well," sneered Lucius, taking a sip of the liquid on the table. Hermione wasn't quite sure what it was. _Probably some sort of blood. That would be something he would do, _thought Hermione spitefully.

"All creatures deserve respect," she spat.

"I don't quite agree with you Miss Granger. Some creatures deserve more than others do. Say wizards for example." He raised one delicate eyebrow, and shrugged off the hand that Narcissa had placed on him. He continued. "House-elves were made to serve us."

"Surely they were not born into the world as servants," argued Hermione, flushing in anger. "Who made up the stupid law that wizards should be more respected than elves? That's just the same thing as purebloods over wizards of non-pure blood." She smirked at Lucius. "I thought you would have learned by now."

Lucius' eyes flashed. He cleared his throat. "My grandfather did, actually."

Hermione actually snorted. "Obviously. How could I not have guessed that?" She rolled her eyes. "Fool."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" he bellowed.

"Fool," Hermione repeated simply, taking a bite out of the bread placed in front of her.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" he roared.

Hermione felt a twinge of fear, but kept that hidden. She quelted the small quiver in her voice. "Fool."

Lucius turned absolutely red, and Draco nudged Hermione lightly while Narcissa calmed her husband down. "Now, now," she mediated, "this is dinner."

She placed a plate of food in front of her husband. "And besides, we're getting off topic. Draco, have you told her that all our house-elves here are treated with utmost care, and they even have time off."

"What," whispered Hermione, "you never told me!"

Draco stared at her, as did Lucius and Narcissa. She realized her misstep.

"Baby." She added on as an afterthought quickly. "You never told me, baby!" She giggled. "That's so great!" she cooed. She would have to be more careful in the future.

Draco chewed his meat and shrugged.

Silence settled upon the family as they continued to eat. It was unnerving. Hermione wondered if they ate every meal like this, because if this was the case, she would have to start taking meals in her room. That would probably benefit in her whole 'piss the Malfoys off' plan too.

It was Narcissa that finally broke the silence.

"I'm actually rather interested in this S.P.E.W. idea."

All three other parties gaped.

"Wha—"

"Excuse me?"

"Huh?"

Hermione's jaw fell open—for three reasons. Firstly, she called S.P.E.W., well…S.P.E.W. and not spew. Secondly, she was interested? And lastly, she was interested?

Narcissa continued as if nothing was amiss. "So what does this S.P.E.W. do?"

"W-We try to improve the quality of life for…disenfranchised creatures. Personally, I knit hats and socks for them, and I'm trying to pass a law to improve…their….yeah…" Hermione trailed off, looking at Draco with an expression that clearly asked, _what the hell?_

He was confused as well. When had his mother been interested in the welfare of elves?

Narcissa ignored that look, watching thoughtfully as her husband roughly wolfed down his food in anger.

"I think it's a good idea." She took a sip of her drink. For a moment, only the sound of clinking silverware could be heard. "I think I'd like to join."

"No, mother!" Draco protested. He dropped his fork and knife with a clang.

Hermione hit him in the chest with her hand. Then froze, as she realized what she had done. Did girlfriends hit their boyfriends like that?

Apparently so, as Narcissa chuckled. "Ah, young love." She, at least, seemed to be accepting it. Hermione thought that she may end up liking the elder woman. The only problem was, Narcissa was supposed to be hating Hermione. That was the plan.

Lucius choked and looked up as if he had just heard that Voldemort had returned.

Draco smiled tightly. "Yeah, uh…mother, I don't think it's a good idea that you join," he said awkwardly.

Hermione frowned. On one hand, it would be an absolute nightmare if Narcissa joined. Hermione guessed that she was only joining to keep tabs on her. But on the other hand, Narcissa had power. And, that, was something that Hermione desperately needed in her organization, which pretty much consisted of only her. She needed someone with influence.

She decided to remain quiet and to see how this unexpected turn of events would play out.

"Why not, dear?"

Draco paused to consider, finding that Hermione was no help at all. "I-I just don't think its…"

His mother interrupted. "What do you think Louu?" she cooed to her husband.

"I think it's a horrible—" he stopped at the look on his wife's face and sighed. "Whatever you like," he gritted out.

She clapped two small claps. "And you Miss Granger? Oh, I mean, Hermione."

Hermione was on the spot. She looked desperately for Draco's help, but the only thing he gave her was a kick on the leg. What was that supposed to mean?

This wasn't going according to plan. S.P.E.W. was supposed to be a turn off—a thing that would disgust the very traditional, very old-fashioned members of the very prominent Malfoy family. They weren't supposed to want to join.

"Granger...don't do this to me now," he hissed beside her. "You'll regret it."

"Oh sod off Draco," she murmured. She lifted her head to reply, ready to agree more to spite Draco more than anything else.

Hermione, however, didn't need to respond, because Narcissa smiled brightly and Draco knew that the decision had already been made. He barely suppressed a groan.

They all returned to eating their respective dinners.

Narcissa positively glowed.

Lucius was positively furious.

Hermione was positively confused, as she shared a pointed look with Draco. She still hadn't agreed yet!

He would have to give Blaise a floo.

He sighed, muttering in a voice that only allowed Hermione to hear, "Houston, we have a problem."

"Do you even know were Houston is?" she muttered, keeping her forced smile towards Narcissa. "Glad to have you on board Narcissa."


	9. Enter Blaise Zabini: Again

**Just a note about 'Houston, we have a problem'—that's a common phrase in**** North America****(Stephanie). I'm not sure if British people use it though, so I thought I'd clarify that. Houston's a place in U.S.A..**

**I just wanted to say to **Jillianunleashed **that I honestly didn't think about the muggle idea. I think it's great, and so…. Although NASCAR isn't for me much, because I wouldn't be able to describe it well.**

* * *

**Enter**** Blaise Zabini—Again**

"Oh! Blaise Zabini!" shrieked Narcissa, recognizing the young man outside her house. She threw the towering door wide open for him to enter. "What a pleasant surprise! Draco didn't tell me you were coming!"

"He didn't? The old bastard!" mocked Blaise, but clearly, Narcissa took no notice. She continued on.

"Hush with the language Blaise." She led him into the house. "How are you, my boy?"

Blaise stopped, taking Narcissa hand and bringing it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss upon it. "Charmed, Mrs. Malfoy, completely and utterly charmed." He then let go, smiled, and waited.

Narcissa recovered quickly, blushing healthily. "My dear, still the flatterer you always were." She shook her head, chiding herself for her small reaction. She sighed. It was always this way. "Well go on dear, Draco's up in his room…" she lowered her tone, speaking in a conspirator's manner, "with his girlfriend." She squealed happily.

Blaise frowned. Draco was right. They did have a problem.

He hurried on his way up the stairs.

* * *

Blaise walked down the endless halls of Malfoy Manor, groaning as he turned down another hall—although his own family's mansion was no different. He had been here enough times to know the way, but since Draco's recent departure away from his childhood home, Blaise hadn't had a reason to visit this manor in a while.

He was afraid that he might be lost.

That is, until he heard some noise. He stopped, listening quietly.

"—get out—git—washroom—"

"—it's mine—"

"It's—turn."

"—hours!"

"Shut up—"

"—Granger—"

"Malfoy!"

He heard a door slam as he chuckled quietly.

"DRACO MALFOY, LET ME BACK IN," Blaise suddenly heard a voice bellow. The voice rang clear and loud. He followed the commotion.

"Curly brown hair. What else do I need to recognize you, Hermione Granger?"

Hermione ceased her heavy banging on the door, jumping slightly at the suave voice coming from behind her. Without looking back, she answered. "Blaise."

She turned and smiled. "Ugly face, that's all _I _need to recognize _you, _my little Italian guy."

He frowned. "Ugly? Little? That's harsh."

Hermione shrugged and was about to answer, before she heard the soft click of the door opening. She whirled around, and pushed against the door with all her might.

Draco stumbled back, cursing himself for opening the door in the first place. He let go of the door, and faced his friend. "Thought I heard your voice out there?"

"And I heard yours," he looked at Hermione, "_and yours, _a mile away. God, I knew this was a bad idea."

"What was?" asked Hermione, barging into the room.

"To choose you—you two are like explosives and fire. Boom!"

Draco glared.

"Maybe," he said slowly, "you should have told me before I _hired _her!"

"Why do people insist on doing this to me!" yelled Hermione from the side. "_Her, _is right here!"

"Yes, I know that! How could I not? With you yelling or hexing me every two minutes we're alone!"

"I thought that was what got me hired," she countered smartly, crossing her arms.

Blaise couldn't help but laugh and add in, "She's got you there mate. I think you _did _say something like that."

"Shut up Zabini. And yeah, Granger, but it isn't working now is it!"

"Well how am I supposed to help that? It's not my fault if your parents are—"

"Are what?" Draco challenged.

"Are WEIRD, like you," she couldn't help but add.

"Well TRY HARDER!" snapped Draco, throwing his hands up into the air.

Blaise took a step forward, pretending to be mature, pushing the two away from each other. "Little boys, little girls, calm down please."

"Shut up Blaise."

"Shut up Zabini," they retorted at the same time.

Draco threw himself onto the bed, only to pop right back up at Hermione's outraged shriek. "My side!"

"Christ, you're not even ON the bed though!"

"Does that matter?"

Draco sighed, but shifted to the right side nonetheless. Blaise threw himself on the left side, and Draco awaited the upcoming yell. It never came.

"Oh sure," he asked, "Blaise gets to go on your side?"

"Yes," Hermione answered simply. Blaise smirked at Draco, who rolled his eyes.

"Why?" he whined.

"Because," said Hermione, "he's not you."

Blaise interrupted smartly before another argument could ensue. "Please," he said, exasperated, "tell me you don't act like this in front of Lucius and Narcissa."

"Am I dumb?"

"Do I look stupid to you?" scoffed Hermione.

"Are _you _stupid?" Draco offered. "We're kind, and nice, and sickeningly sweet in front of them. Oh so un-Slytherin like," grumbled Draco.

"Really now? Because I can't even imagine you guys acting civil towards one another after the show you just gave."

"We can be perfectly civil!" defended Hermione. "Right Draco?"

"More than civil even!"

"But if you want civil," she ventured, "I'll show _you_ civil." She turned away.

After a slight pause, Blaise spoke up. "Uh…Hermione?"

"Blaise."

"What are you doing?"

"Blaise."

"Are you serious?"

"Blaise."

"Wow."

"Blaise."

He snorted. "God, Draco, are you seeing this?"

Draco turned to his friend. "Blaise."

"Oh my god."

"Blaise."

"Shit."

"Blaise."

Blaise raised his hands. "You know what? I take it back. Miracles of miracles. If you guys team up like that in front of Narcissa and Lucius, I believe you. You could probably even act married."

Immediately, Draco and Hermione's faces scrunched up.

"Okay then…" said Blaise slowly, "maybe not."

Hermione nodded, satisfied. There was a short silence, in which Hermione walked to the other side of the room to grab the chair for herself to sit on.

"Hey Hermione?" She turned to look at Blaise. "You look nice today."

Hermione looked down at her clothes, scrounged together without much thought. "Thanks? I guess.."

"Oh please Blaise, don't start flirting with my fake girlfriend."

"Well, she does look nice!" he defended, sending Hermione a wink. She blushed.

"Right."

"Are you saying I don't look nice?" snapped Hermione.

"Not at all. I'm just doubting Zabini's intentions."

"My intentions are perfectly platonic."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Enough."

"Fine, fine, let's get on with this," agreed Blaise. "So what was I desperately called here for? Other than the fact that Narcissa obviously likes Hermione."

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.

"Narcissa squeals when she's happy," shrugged Blaise.

"Don't I know," murmured Draco, pretending to tap his ears. Hermione had to laugh. Draco smiled.

"Well, does Lucius like her too?"

"The opposite," assured Hermione proudly.

"Yes," drawled Draco, "she insulted Papa Malfoy senior."

"Ohhh," replied Blaise knowingly.

"Ohhh is right."

"I don't get it," complained Hermione.

"Nevermind. It was good work. Lucius _despises _when people insult his grandfather."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Lucius just despises people in general."

Blaise and Draco chuckled.

"Well, it doesn't matter much then does it? Narcissa likes everybody. It's what she does. It's Lucius that will be the one that says the final words anyways," Blaise pointed out.

"Father isn't the problem," insisted Draco. "Mother, on the other hand…" he trailed off.

"What did she do?"

"She…"

"What Draco? God damnit, out with it already."

"She's…meddling," he gritted out.

"Meddling," repeated Blaise, stunned. "As in…trying to get you two…"

Draco nodded. "You know Hermione's organization thing. Spew?"

"S. P. E. W.!"

"Right, whatever. S_pew?" _He smirked at Hermione, who ignored him.

Blaise paused. "Oh…oh yeah. The elf thing." He paused again. "Don't tell me. Narcissa..joined?"

Draco and Hermione nodded again, simultaneously. Blaise burst out laughing, running out of air.

Finally, after long moments, and many glares, Blaise managed to regain calmness. He rubbed his aching abdominal muscles. "Let her be then," he suggested simply, gasping for air, "just give her hell in the group until she sees how absolutely insane it actually is."

Hermione huffed. "It's not insane!"

Blaise looked at her with disbelief all over his face, but nodded nonetheless. "Narcissa won't stay in the group long. She probably just wants to see how Hermione is. So put up a show."

"I hoped so," agreed Draco. "The only good thing about this is that father's even more angry because of this."

"Two birds in one stone then," commented Hermione.

"Yes, exactly!" said Blaise. "Just make something stupid up. Like make her crochet or knit or whatever it's called."

"S.P.E.W. does knit…" answered Hermione slowly.

"Oh." Blaise looked at Draco. "Oops. Well then that's perfect."

"I'm going to ignore that," announced Hermione.

"Please do," said Blaise immediately.

But Hermione already wasn't listening. Her eyes were on something else, as was her attention. The boys followed her gaze, to the stack of books on her desk.

"I always knew you loved books, but this is a little weird," began Draco.

"Yeah," agreed Blaise.

"No, look!" Hermione eagerly pointed out, ignoring their slights.

"I am! And I see books! Do you see books Blaise?"

"Yes. What am I looking for again?"

"Muggle books Draco!"

He lifted his hands, and waved them as if magic was in the air. "Yes!"

Blaise laughed.

"What did your parents hate most before?" sighed Hermione, slapping both the boys in the arms.

"Muggles?" answered Draco. He looked solemn suddenly, and winced. "Sorry."

"No but that's great!"

"Um..if you say so?"

"They hated muggles the most. And even if they don't _hate _them now, they can't possible like them right?"

"Well, yes," answered Blaise.

"So…" Hermione gestured to the books.

"We're going to scare them by popping muggle books in their faces?" asked a bewildered Draco. "I'm not so sure that's going to work."

"Yeah, I agree with Draco. See, the books aren't that scary. And even so, they don't look much different than our books."

"NO! You dolts! The muggle world!"

"Oh!"

"Ohh."

"We'll take them to the muggle world."

Hermione bit her lip nervously as Draco contemplated. Finally, he smiled, catching her eye. And with his look, even before he said it, she knew he agreed completely.

"Oh, poor poor Malfoys," Blaise laughed, "The whole lot of you."

He said that looking straight at Draco.


	10. Black Friday

**Ok, so I'm going to quickly explain the whole…repetition of Blaise thing last time. Blaise said that he didn't think they could act civil towards one another, so Hermione said that she would act civil to him. To act civilly means to act with minimal tolerance for a person, so she and Draco merely acknowledged him, something that's not rude but not nice. I hope I'm making SOME sense?**

**And thanks for all the ideas! There were so many, I didn't know which to choose!:) They were all great, and I'm sorry if I didn't put yours in.**

**For the sake of my story, Walmart's Black Friday sale has moved up to May 25****th****. If England doesn't have walmart, then it's a department store.**

**Review!**

* * *

**Black Friday-The Muggle World I**

"Walmart..." read Draco skeptically, as he regarded the large white block letters hanging above the entrance from a distance. "It looks…"

Hermione glared. "What does it look like huh?"

"Nice," supplied Narcissa, frowning at Draco.

"Horrid," provided Lucius, frowning at Narcissa.

Hermione frowned at Lucius.

"…alright," Draco continued on, forcing a smile. "Father, mother, shall we go in then?" he bravely asked.

"Oh Hermione," gushed Narcissa, as she headed forwards without any hesitation, "I just _knew _you would like our shopping trip. Look, you're taking us again already!"

"Shopping," said Hermione, with a nervous chuckle. "This isn't really the place you would go shopping Narcissa." But the woman wasn't listening. Narcissa turned back when she noticed her husband hadn't moved an inch. "Lou!" she demanded, pouting.

He sighed. "Can you see the mob of filthy people over there? If I go in there, I'd have to…_touch _them."

"God forbid," muttered Hermione, just loud enough for Lucius to hear. She rolled her eyes. "The mob will only get _bigger _Lucius, so I suggest we get a move on. I have to pick up a few things here before we go."

She proceeded forwards, frowning slightly at the truly immense amount of people. It was Black Friday—Walmart's biggest sale of the year. And she hated it. But for today, it would serve its purpose.

Draco ran to catch up to her, followed by Narcissa pulling Lucius along.

"Where are we going after this then?" he whispered into her ear, his hand grasping around hers.

She tensed and then relaxed. "Surprise," she smiled sneakily at him.

"You're really not going to tell me?" he pleaded.

She pretended to consider, quickly looking back to make sure Narcissa and Lucius were still in tow. They were watching them intensely. "Nope," she replied happily.

"Come on,"

"Nope."

"Fine." He changed tactics. "Do we really have to go in there Granger?"

She grimaced unwillingly. She didn't like the idea much either.

"See!" he declared, triumphant, "you don't want to either."

"Do you want to hear those words from your parents or not?" she snapped, annoyed that he had saw her through. "We have to go in."

He stared with wide eyes at the approaching store. "I don't think so."

"I think so."

"It's full of muggles." She took no offense in his words, knowing that he really didn't have much against them anymore. She could understand his discomfort.

"That's the idea." And without waiting for his response, she pulled him to a stop. She began again when Narcissa and Lucius caught up. "Just to be sure, if anyone gets trampled or pushed, crawl to the side and them apparate to where we were." She almost laughed at Lucius' outraged expression.

"You think I'd get trampled upon by mere muggles?"

"LUCIUS!" Narcissa admonished.

"Well, it's true," he hissed.

"You'd be surprised," answered Hermione simply. "You'd be surprised."

"It's not a possibility," Lucius stubbornly refuted.

Hermione smirked. "Want to bet?"

Lucius, for the first time in Hermione's life, actually cracked a slight smile. It was more of a cross between a smile and a smirk, but it was close enough. "10 galleons," he paused. "If you have that amount of money."

Hermione snorted, but discreetly looked at Draco, because Lucius was right. She didn't have 10 galleons to spare. Draco nodded briefly in assurance. She stuck out her hand, daring Lucius to refuse it. "10 galleons it is."

They shook on it, and Lucius determinedly stepped forwards. The rest followed.

Draco kept a close hold on Hermione, as they stepped into the throngs of people. The flow pushed them inwards, and they were futile to resist. In matter of moments, they were squeezed into the mass of people.

"WHAT IS THIS?" he screamed, above the noise. He tried to shrink away from a large bulky man to his right, only to bump into an elderly woman on his left.

"WALMART," replied Hermione, wincing as she was elbowed in the ribs. She took hold of his hand and pushed ahead, elbows out, barreling past people.

"MY PARENTS!"

"THEY'LL BE FINE," replied Hermione, turning and chuckling, "THEY'LL JUST BE 10 GALLEONS POORER."

But in the moment that she took to pause and turn around, the force of the flow of people had caught up with her and she was flung backwards, struggling to stand upright on one hand, and desperately trying not to fall on the other.

"GRANGER!" bellowed Draco, her hand slipping from his grasp. The disgusted sneer on his face fell into an expression of worry as he pushed a man aside. He grabbed Hermione by the waist and literally hauled her back up, setting her back on her feet.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "THANKS!"

Draco nodded, and nudged her to continue. Around him, muggles were literally scrambling to the shelves, clearing them off. Nearly every shelf around him was almost half empty, and it was only 10 in the morning! The store had only opened an hour ago. Muggles were so weird.

He suddenly felt a pull on his hand, as he watched the head of brown hair ease to one side of the rush. He looked up. Pharmaceuticals.

His eyes widened. Stephanie had brought him shopping to these aisles before.

By now, they were in a slightly calmer area. Oh, the aisle was still packed with people, reaching for all sorts of packages and boxes, but at least they weren't pushing and pulling.

Hermione must have noticed the look on her face, because she laughed outright at him. "I'm not getting tampons or pads Draco. Don't be so scared."

He tried to glare, but ended up only flushing. "Good."

She led the way to the back of the aisle. "Ah," she said, satisfied, "here we are."

He looked. He stared. Then, he glared.

"TOOTHBRUSHES?"

"And toothpaste!" she defended automatically.

"You made me go through ALL that, for…a toothbrush," he groaned.

"AND TOOTHPASTE! Besides, this toothbrush is usually two pounds, and now its only fifty pence! That's a quarter of the price!"

Draco groaned even louder, causing curious stares to arise around them.

"Let me get this straight. I just got trampled on, pushed around, nearly mauled over by about 100 muggles, to get a fifty pence piece of plastic with bristles." Hermione opened her mouth, but Draco cut her off. "And a tube with paste in it," he added.

Hermione shrugged and nodded.

"Let's just go alright."

"Not until I get my toothbrush!"

"FINE!" Draco gave up, allowing her to choose her purple toothbrush and vanilla flavoured toothpaste, before they once again fell into the swarm of people pushing in the other direction.

They stumbled their way along, nearly falling a couple of times, before nearing the cashier lines. The endless cashier lines.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

Hermione shook her head. "Welcome to Black Friday." And then, she proceeded to get pushed right into his chest, reducing his curse to a loud cough instead.

* * *

It was an hour later. Coins jingled, as Lucius pulled out his coin purse. His _manly _coin purse, Hermione thought, amused. Grudgingly, he reached his hand in, pulling out a handful of gold metal pieces. Hermione opened the palm of her hands.

One by one, ten coins dropped. She smiled.

He tried to sneer, but it turned out as a grimace as the small wound on his face was stretched. "Trampled by muggles," he muttered mournfully, "of all disgraces."

"I told you so," Hermione replied, smiling at Draco and shaking the coins in her hand to show him. He laughed and shook his head.

"I don't know what my son is thinking," Lucius hissed to Hermione, his eyes narrowing and his voice lowering so that his wife couldn't hear, "but he'll snap out of it soon."

Hermione took this as a challenge. "I don't think so Lucius."

"You'll see."

"Want to bet on that too? Although I think it's a little unfair to keep stealing your money like this." Hermione grinned, her white teeth mocking Lucius.

He swallowed roughly. "Where to next?"

* * *

"_This _is next?" asked a stunned Lucius as he stood in line at the entrance gate. As he entered, he stuck his hand out, mimicking the rest of the people, as a small purple Spongebob stamp was inked onto his hand. He pulled back as if he had been branded with heated iron.

He stared at the mark on his hand. "It's a sponge. And it's smiling at me," he gritted out. He furiously tried rubbing it off, to no avail. "Get it away!"

Hermione looked at her own hand. "It's not so bad."

Hermione rolled her eyes, watching as Draco was doing a similar thing. She took his hands in hers. He looked up.

"Just leave it," she smiled. She pushed his hands forcefully to the side, and gestured all around her to the three guests in front of her. "This," she said, looking around, "is an amusement park."

"I'm not amused," retorted Lucius flatly, immediately. Narcissa bit her lip nervously.

Hermione ignored him, and walked over to Narcissa. "How about some lunch first?" she asked kindly. Narcissa immediately nodded, looking on last time at the towering machines above her.

Hermione led the way to a nearby stand.

"What _are _they doing to those children?" Narcissa whispered.

"Huh?" said Hermione.

"Look, they're _torturing _them! How can you stand for this!"

"Torturing?"

Nearby, the screams of children could be heard.

"Can you hear that!" Narcissa looked around, her head flicking from one side to another. "OVER THERE!" She pointed at the highest tower in the ride. She squinted. "Oh Hermione! They're strapping the poor babies onto the thing and dropping them!"

Hermione followed her gaze.

"We _must _stop them. This is _evil."_

Hermione wanted to laugh at the irony. Evil, from the mouth of a Malfoy would have seemed such a joke if she hadn't gotten to understand Narcissa's nature.

"No," Hermione insisted, "this is for fun."

"For fun?"

"They line up to go on these things."

"You mean..the children…_want _to go on these monstrous things?"

"They're called rides. And yes. You see, that's a roller coaster over there. We'll be going on one later."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" shrieked Narcissa, her voice shrill. "You surely don't mean…" Narcissa swallowed, looking up at the towering mass of metal tracks above her.

Hermione bit her lip, and was relieved to see the hot dog stand in view. "LUNCH!" she declared happily.

She skipped forwards, suddenly thrilled to be in the park again. She hadn't been here since she had been in third year.

"Four hot dogs please," she asked the vendor. The man smiled brightly at her and nodded. Draco appeared beside her.

Hermione was slightly shocked that he didn't seem surprised by the type of food.

"Stephanie took me to eat one of these once," he answered, seemingly reading her thoughts. "They're good." He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling in anticipation of his parent's reactions. She smiled back.

She handed the vendor the money, thanked him, and picked up two of the hot dogs. Draco grabbed the other two.

She walked over to the table where Lucius and Narcissa were hovering above. Hermione sighed.

"What's wrong now?"

Narcissa pulled out a handkerchief from her purse and wiped the table and chairs. Then, as if it were the dirtiest thing in the world, she threw it into the garbage can.

Hermione bore a smile. "Is it cleansed yet? Pure yet? Sterile yet?"

Lucius snarled. "I suppose it will do." He gingerly took a seat down, sitting at the edge of the seat. Narcissa did the same. "What's that?"

Hermione handed him the hot dog, taking a seat for herself.

"It's called a hot dog."

"We're eating _dogs?" _demanded Lucius.

"No, that's just the name!"

"So we're not eating dogs?" asked Narcissa, relief in her voice, "cause how I do love those creatures."

"I assure you, muggles do _not _eat dogs. They aren't monsters."

"Those ones that _trampled _on me were certainly monsters," defended Lucius. He stared at the food in his right hand. Slowly, watching his left hand, he brought it to wrap around the hot dog as if touching food with his hands would hurt him.

"Just wrap you hands around like this," instructed Draco.

"This is disgusting," grimaced Narcissa, shaking her head. She took a small bite of her bun. "Can't we eat this like civilized people? With forks and knives?"

"It's a hot dog," replied Draco, "this is how you're supposed to eat it."

"You've eaten this before," cried Lucius.

Draco smiled tightly. "With..Hermione."

Lucius sneered. "Of course."

Hermione ignored them, taking a large bite out of her hot dog. Ketchup rubbed onto her chin. She chewed loudly, on purpose, and even grinned halfway before swallowing.

Draco could barely contain his laughter.

"Hermione," he whispered, picking up a napkin from the table. She turned towards him, and watched as he tilted her chin up with one hand, and wiped away the ketchup with the same hand.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She brushed away a crumb off his cheek with her fingers.

He smiled at her. Her heart sort of clenched. But she figured it was heartburn from swallowing too much hot dog too fast.

Lucius cleared his throat, and finally bit into his food.

"How is it?" asked Hermione eagerly.

He chewed slowly, his face unreadable.

The tension was high, as all three of them watched the eldest male.

Finally, after seemingly forever, he swallowed.

"It's…acceptable." He quickly took another bite.

Hermione and Draco grinned to each other. Draco winked.

Hermione playfully hit him in the chest. Playfully being the key word that Lucius obviously didn't get.

Lucius pushed out his seat roughly and stood up, his eyes alight. "HOW DARE YOU HIT MY SON LIKE THAT," he sputtered.

"I just—" whimpered Hermione.

"YOU—"The half eaten food in his mouth fell into his throat, as he began to choke, coughing and wheezing.

Draco rushed up.

Hermione rummaged through her bag, pulling out her bottle of water. She handed it to Draco, who quickly uncapped it, and poured it down his father's throat.

Narcissa tapped her husbands back, trying to ease the flow of air.

Lucius' face turned red, as he sputtered and began to breathe once again. But it was only a few moments before he returned upright and glared at Hermione.

"THAT WATER TOUCHED YOUR LIPS!" he bellowed. "FILTHY MUGGLEBORN LIPS! I THINK I'M GOING TO BE SICK. " And with that, he threw down his hot dog, ketchup splattering all over and stomped away.

"I don't even get a thank you," muttered Hermione. "Do you suppose I should have told him it was a new bottle of water?"

Narcissa looked frightened. "I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I'll go find him. We'll meet up later."

"Let them wander for a while," whispered Draco to Hermione. To his mother, he raised his voice, "The front entrance at four mother!"

She nodded, before scurrying off to find Lucius.

And then…there were two.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other, before bursting into laughter. They held their hotdogs up like glasses, and pretending to clink them together in celebration.

"A mission well accomplished," grinned Draco.

Hermione shook her head. "It's only just begun." She checked her watch. They had four hours of a break before the act would start once again. She looked around her.

Draco caught on.

He stood up, pulling her along. "Come on," he said, surprising her, "show me what this world has got. These things don't look so scary."

Hermione only grinned.

She could imagine it now.

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED IN PART II. **


	11. The Amusement Park

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Keep it up! ( : ( :**

* * *

**The Amusement Park-The Muggle World II**

Draco tapped his foot impatiently, looking at his watch again.

"Oh, come _on _Granger, quit being the perfect little girl for _once _in your life will you?"

"Quit being the spoiled little brat for once in _your _life will you?" Hermione retorted, mimicking Draco's tone.

"It's been one whole minute."

"HEAVENS NO!" gasped Hermione sarcastically.

"Shut up. I mean, these muggles won't know if we happened to just _magically _appear in front of them in line," he insisted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No," she said firmly. "For the thousandth time. We're almost there anyways."

"ALMOST, AS IN A WHOLE 15 MINUTES AWAY!" cried Draco, pointing at the sign hovering conveniently above his head. "This is unbelievable. I'm going to sue them!"

Hermione snorted. "You're going to sue them, for making you wait 16 minutes in line."

Draco pulled himself up onto the metal railing.

"The line ups are usually hours long Draco, you're already very lucky," Hermione said, leaning against the railing opposite him. "By the way, you might want to get off that."

"Why? So you can take my seat?" he retorted.

"No…" she began, but an announcement from the speaker directly overhead them cut her off.

**"Would the man with the blonde hair please get off the railing?" **

Draco looked from right to left, sneering at the many accusing looks. He slowly slid off the bar, rubbing his ears.

The speakers squeaked to life again, sending Draco into a small frightened jump.

**"Thank you."**

Hermione laughed as Draco stared murderously at the little black speaker hanging above.

She only laughed harder when she heard him whisper, "I'm going to sue you too you little damn thing!"

* * *

The bars previously restricting them from passing through opened as Hermione and Draco waited for the people to leave.

Hermione led Draco through, taking a seat beside him.

"This smells," he commented immediately, sniffing at the restraints as he took his seat.

"Oh, don't be a git."

"I'm just saying!" he defended. He watched as Hermione pulled her restraint lower, and click it in place.

He looked at his, hanging above his head. He tried to pull it down.

It wouldn't budge.

He frowned.

He tried again.

"Granger…"

Hermione watched him struggle.

"A little help here…"

Hermione folded her arms, or attempted to, as the safety buckles got in her way. "Magic word?" she asked.

He grunted, dropping his aching arms.

"Please."

"Very good Draco!" She said, pretending to clap. "You learn something knew everyday!"

"Just help me Granger."

"Push up first."

"No way," retorted Draco. "Why would I have to do that? I'm trying to pull it down." He shook his head, "you're lying."

"Just try it Draco."

He shook his head, but did anyways. It came down.

Hermione smirked.

"Muggles," he said disbelievingly. "They don't make any sense." He locked the seat belt in place, and grasped his hands around the bars provided.

"What now?" asked Draco, boredly. "This isn't exciting at all. All it is smelly."

A man came along each side and pushed the restraints a notch lower. Draco grunted as it hit…_that _place. "Oh God," he breathed.

Hermione laughed. "Did I forget to mention that?"

Suddenly the seat began to follow the track upwards.

"Why is it moving?" asked Draco frantically, trying to look back as he did, squirming.

Hermione pointed to the track circling around them, looping and twisting. "We're going through that."

"WHAT?" Draco squeaked. He cleared his voice. "WHAT?" he repeated, making sure he sounded masculine this time.

"I said…"

"I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!"

"Well, then, don't say what!" she replied indignantly.

But he was too preoccupied with looking around frightfully to hear her.

"Are you scared?" she asked, in a spooky voice.

"No," he choked out, gritting his teeth and looking straight ahead.

Hermione knew he was. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded. By now, they were at the top of the ascent.

"Look down," instructed Hermione.

He did. He gulped.

The train of cars paused.

He sighed a breath of relief.

And then they jolted forwards. Draco felt his stomach roll up. He bit his lip from screaming, but in the end it was futile.

"I'm goinnnng tooooo dieeeeeeeeeee!" he managed to yell, before he felt the whip of wind slap his face, obscuring his words.

He felt every turn and every curve push through his body. He shut his eyes.

But when he heard Hermione laughed, he accidentally opened them again.

Just in time to catch sight of the three consecutive loops coming up. Loops, where he would be hanging _upside down. _He screamed.

He screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

* * *

Draco felt the seat jolt to a stop. His hand flew to the buckle, desperately clicking it so that he would be released. Painfully slowly, the restraint rose away from his body.

He crawled onto the ground, out of the fearful ride. He almost had the urge to kiss the ground in gratefulness for being alive.

He stumbled upright, barely able to stand still.

His stomach was still lurching. His head was still spinning. His breath was still short.

Hermione linked her arms with his, guiding him down the exit ramp.

"Thrilling wasn't it," she whispered, thoroughly enjoying her own racing heart.

Draco took in a gulp of fresh air, slowly breathing it back out. "I don't…I don't think my heart is beating anymore."

Hermione put her hand to his hard chest. "Nah, it's perfectly fine."

"Doesn't feel fine."

"Just wait a moment. You'll want to go on again."

"Never in this lifetime."

Hermione chuckled, leading Draco to a seat nearby.

"Is this what you Gryffindors do to practice bravery? Honestly. Now I _really _know what they meant when they said Gryffindors were fools."

"Let's stop with the insulting alright," huffed Hermione.

They sat like that for a while. Hermione watching Draco. Draco, taking his deep calming breaths.

Hermione saw Draco bite his lip. She grinned.

He smiled. "Let's do that again."

She leapt up from her seat, pulling him up as she did. "Not this one. There's plenty more to go."

Draco allowed her to pull him along by hand, listening as she pointed out her memories from rides they past.

"And that! Oh my god that! We have to go on that!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed, bringing Draco's hand in front of her as she waved it excitedly.

Draco watched her eyes light up, and her expression brighten. Her face was flushed, from the heat and from the excitement, and her hair was wild from the roller coaster.

He couldn't help but smile. She looked so...innocent. And beautiful.

"Draco! Draco!"

He shook out of his thoughts. "We can….but not if you're going to break my hand Granger," he laughed.

She blushed rosily, and dropped his hand immediately. "Sorry," she said shyly.

He looked at the ride she was pointing at. "Spinning cups?"

"Teacups."

"Oh of course," groaned Draco, "_Tea_cups."

Hermione giggled.

Hermione…._giggled. _

Draco couldn't believe it. He gaped.

"What?" asked Hermione self-conciously. She combed her fingers through her hair. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You…giggled!" he accused.

Hermione glared. "What, I can't giggle?" she snapped, embarassed. "And besides, it was _hardly _a giggle. More like a chuckle. A laugh!"

Draco decided to change the topic, before the fun mood was ruined. He began walking towards the short line. "Never mind," he said hastily, "so what's the story about this ride?"

Hermione stared at the blurred people, screaming happily and joyously. "Well, you know Jonathon right?"

"The Jonathon in the last story?"

"Oh yes, him!"

"Yes."

"Well, we were here with him. Just me, him and Julie."

"Julie? Who's Julie?"

"The girl Jonathon liked."

"Of course," replied Draco graciously. He laughed. "I feel like I'm gossiping."

Hermione smiled. "Anyways, so we were all on this ride. And after when we got off, Jonathon was so dizzy, he walked right into Julie."

Hermione paused.

Draco really didn't get the big deal, but nonetheless, smoothly transformed his face into shock to humour her. "Oh no!"

"EXACTLY!" cried Hermione, not noticing. "He just walked right into her, and KISSED her!"

By now, they were at the front of the line. The gates opened, and Draco and Hermione filed into the area along with the others.

"The blue one!" cried Hermione. "I want the blue one!"

Draco hurried to the blue cup, taking a seat before the other frantically rushing people could take it. Hermione climbed in beside him seconds later.

And soon, the ride began.

Or rather, the game of ping pong.

Hermione was first flung into Draco, who grunted in surprise. Then as the spin changed directions, she was flung into the plastic backing of her seat. And then back to Draco, who this time, was a little more prepared. And then back against the seat.

She winced, finally remembering how _painful _some rides could be. But as she was released from Draco's side, fully prepared to brace herself for the upcoming impact with the seat, it never came.

She looked down. Draco had put his hand there.

She looked at him. He smiled.

And in the blur of movement, in the intense motion, that was all she could see. Him. Him and his blindingly beautiful smile.

Her head flung to the side as she gripped onto the seat.

Finally, the ride eased to a stop. Hermione closed her eyes, allowing her head to clear before she stood up. Draco did the same, stumbling out of the teacup and down along the slanted area, out the gate.

Hermione was already down there.

She watched as Draco stumbled dizzily towards her. And as he neared, he didn't slow down.

Her mind, a little slow form the spinning, registered the fact that he was going to walk right into her, just a little too late.

He did exactly that, and she stumbled back due to his weight so that she was against the gated railing.

He looked down. She looked up.

Her heart skipped.

And then, he leaned downwards. Hermione fluttered her eyes closed.

"Was it like this?"

Her eyes popped open, startled.

He had leant down to whisper in her ear, she realized, feeling foolish.

"Yes," she said back, her voice wavering, her heart beating erratically.

"Oh," he whispered, and then pulled back, smirking.

"MALLLFOOOYY!"

And she couldn't figure out why, but she was filled with just a little touch of disappointment.

* * *

They were walking along, after their seventh ride, when Draco slipped his hand in hers.

She looked at him, confused.

"Over there," he whispered.

His parents. She nodded, and leaned into him.

* * *

Draco and Hermione laughed as the stumbled off another roller coaster.

"Oh look!" she exclaimed, "pictures!"

She pulled him over and watched for their faces as the screens changed.

"Where are we?" she murmured, glancing back and forth.

"Over there," Draco said, pointing to the screen furthest left.

She followed his gaze.

"Excuse me," she asked the worker there, "can we see that picture?"

The woman nodded, and the picture showed up on the computer screen in front of them.

Draco burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" huffed Hermione, although a smile was tugging at her own lips.

"Your—" he gasped for air, "your hair!"

"There was wind!" she cried.

"It looks like a lion's mane!" he burst out.

The woman at the counter, waiting to see if they would purchase the picture, smiled kindly. The type of smile that clearly was sympathetic.

Hermione smiled back tightly, and hit Draco in the stomach as hard as she could.

"Well, look at your face! And you said you weren't scared!"

He looked nervous.

"AHA!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "You were even screaming! Look!"

"I was not!"

"Was too!"

"Like you weren't!"

"It was scary!"

"EXACTLY!"

"You admit it then!" Hermione smiled widely. She turned back to the woman. "We'll take one please."

She rummaged through her pocket to find the money, but Draco beat her to it. While leaning forward to pay, he whispered in her ear. "Good idea."

"For?" she asked, genuinely unsure of what he was saying.

"Weren't you buying it for my parents to see?"

She paused. The idea…oddly enough…hadn't even occurred to her.

"Wait here while it develops?" he continued on, "I want to go to the washroom. I'll be quick."

She nodded dumbly.

_Why hadn't she thought of that? _

She called for the woman's attention once again.

"Make that two please," she said, handing the worker her own money.

She just wanted a copy for herself. That had been her intention.


	12. The Petting Zoo

**To **DementedLeaf, **I get what you mean by the unneeded apostrophes and mix ups. It happens when I type really fast, but I'll try to avoid them in the future and if I have time, I'll look over the previous chapters. Thanks.**

**AND. About walmart, those big sales definitely happen in the US and Canada too.**

**I've always been to scared to go to one though. It's intimidating.**

* * *

**The Petting Zoo-The Muggle World III**

"Draco!" Narcissa called, her hands waving in the air.

Draco and Hermione walked over; laughing as they tried to catch their breath from the roller coaster they had just stumbled off.

"You're filthy," commented Lucius, as the two neared within sight. His face scrunched up, as if something putrid was in front of him. "And you smell like a muggle."

Hermione sobered up, her mood ruined. "Shocking," she said spitefully. "Considering you're in the _muggle _world, at a _muggle _park that is filled with _muggles, _who would have thought?"

"Don't you talk to me in that manner young lady," Lucius reprimanded, standing stiffly as he pulled his cloak around him to hide the muggle clothing that Hermione had forced him to wear underneath.

"And you're wearing _muggle_ clothing."

"Not by choice."

Hermione ignored him. "So, I see my water, tainted with my frightful _muggleness _hasn't done you in yet," she commented smugly.

"Much to your dislike I suppose," he retorted back detestably.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Narcissa beat her to it.

"LOU!" she gasped. "She saved your life."

"Hardly my life," he defended.

"Lou…apologize." Narcissa winked at Hermione.

"Not a chance," returned Lucius, disgusted at the thought.

"Lou…"

"No!"

She frowned. "Lou."

"Cissy don't be like this."

"—"

"Don't make me do this."

"—"

Hermione snickered.

"Please."

"—"

"It's humiliating!"

Lucius shrank under his wife's glare. Slowly, he turned his head towards Draco, refusing to look at Hermione. "Sorry," he bit out.

"I bet it killed him to say that," Hermione whispered to Draco, before nodding to Lucius and smiling brightly at Narcissa.

Narcissa took that as a cue to continue. She ignored her fuming husband and squeezed herself between Draco and Hermione. She pulled them away.

"Mother, what are you doing?"

"Hush boy," she scolded. "You want to know a secret?" she whispered conspiringly.

Hermione bent down, and pulled Draco along too with her hand. "Of course." Her eyes twinkled when she was amused, Draco noted.

"Lucius doesn't want you to know," Narcissa said, "but we went on one of those death contraptions you told us about Hermione!"

"You did?" asked Draco. He paused. "Both of you?"

"Oh yes!" chirped Narcissa.

"Both as in…you and…_father?" _he repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes, yes! It was amazing! Your father couldn't get enough of it. The thrill. The rush!"

"You mean, Lucius went on a roller coaster? With the smelly seats, soaked with sweat?" asked Hermione, squinting up at the roller coaster Narcissa had pointed at.

"You're kidding right?" Draco put in.

"Oh, well he was perfectly indignant when I made him sit down. He put up quite a scene. It was rather embarrassing. But in the end, he just kept going back and back."

"No way."

Narcissa giggled happily, pleased to see that Draco and Hermione were interested. "We just _have _to do this again someday Hermione! I've never seen Lou so happy before."

Hermione forced out a smile and looked at Lucius, who was staring at the three of them with a repulsed expression on his face. "He doesn't look very happy," she pointed out.

"Oh, that's just how he always looks!" laughed Narcissa.

"Well, that's…good to know."

"He's perfectly happy, he just doesn't want to let you know."

"But mother, father _can't _be happy."

"Can't he?" Narcissa rummaged through her bag, and pulled out a photo.

Hermione snatched the image out of her hand, and held it out for Draco and herself to see. The picture was of two people on a roller coaster, their equally long and similarly blonde hair flying behind them and hitting the person behind. They held hands, both smiling and shrieking in a way that only thrill rides could make you do.

Hermione's jaw dropped. On closer inspection, she found that it was Lucius and Narcissa.

"In my eighteen years of life, I have never once seen my father smile," Draco whispered to Hermione. "This is sort of scary."

Hermione nodded mutely. "They look like twins. Now _that _is scary."

Draco almost chuckled. Almost. But Lucius was walking their way now.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice arrogant as per usual.

"Oh nothing Lou, just about how you wanted to ask Hermione if any of those people who made "hot dogs" were for hire for the manor," she said, insisting on putting air quotations when she said hot dogs to remind everyone that they were not actually made of dog.

"I wasn't going to ask her!" he shouted, displeased. "She wasn't supposed to know," he said urgently to Narcissa.

"Oops?"

Hermione laughed. "So you like the hot dogs Lucius?"

"No," he responded immediately.

Draco stepped into their circle. "Too bad," he commented airily, "because Hermione makes _great _hot dogs."

Hermione smiled proudly.

Lucius looked positively crestfallen. "Really?" he asked.

"Oh, the best," assured Draco.

"That's perfect dear!" exclaimed Narcissa, "you can make some for Lou then!"

"Oh, but Narcissa," smiled Hermione coldly, in her most Slytherin-like manner, "he doesn't like them."

"But he does! He told me they were even more delicious than a—"

"That's quite enough Cissy!"

She turned to him. "I thought you said you loved them!"

"Well." Hermione pretended to consider. "If he asks me to make them…kindly….I guess I could."

Lucius suppressed a groan. "I would never belittle myself like that."

"The offer will continue to stand," shrugged Hermione. "Anyways, come on, I want to show you one more place before we go."

* * *

"Before we go in there, I suggest you take off your cloak Lucius."

"Did you just say take off my clothes?" he asked indignantly, "what type of preposterous—"

"Cloak. She said cloak," clarified Draco, who wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist. Used to his touch, she barely stiffened at all.

"Oh." Lucius paused. "My cloak is a sign of my authority. A sign of my status. I can not simply—"

"It's a sign of your arrogance…that is going to get ruined," Hermione interrupted. It was a few more minutes of walking before they neared the place.

And they knew they were close because…

"What is that smell?"

"It smells like….no…" Draco widened his eyes.

And finally, the petting zoo came into view. In all of its...animal, fly and manure glory.

"If you would like to call anyone animals Lucius, then these little guys won't take any offense whatsoever."

"I'm not going in there," Draco hissed to Hermione.

"Oh yes you are," she replied, "we all are."

"I most certainly am—" But Lucius' cry was cut off as Hermione pushed him in through the gate. "I stepped in pooh!" he bellowed.

"Oh my, the smell," cried Narcissa, her face distorting.

"I demand to know what these _things _are?" shouted Lucius. The innocent beady eyes of the many creatures turned towards the noise.

"You call people animals, yet you can't recognize one when you see one," snorted Hermione, "typical."

"I know they're animals! But what are they doing?"

"Well, it seems as though that one is crapping on your cloak LouLou dear."

Lucius made a noise, which sounded oddly like a shriek, and pulled his cloak right out from under the poor little bunny.

"MY CLOAK!"

"Now it's really a symbol of your status," laughed Hermione.

Draco plugged his nose with his hands. "My god, Hermione."

Hermione walked over to the side, put in fifty pence into the machine, and caught the flow of food bits pouring out of the nozzle.

"Some for you," she said, as forcefully pulled down Draco's hand and stuffed it full with pieces.

"Some for you Narcissa," she said, as Narcissa winced.

"And lastly, some for you," she said, walking over to Lucius. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't open his fist, and Hermione "accidentally" dropped all the rest of the pieces onto the ground around him.

She jumped away just asf all the animals of all sorts came trampling towards the food; pigs, goats, rabbits, chickens, lamb and sheep were only some of the smaller animals. And then there were the big ones stampeding over, the llamas, the donkeys and the ponies.

Lucius called for help, but no one wanted to near the mob of animals.

His arms were flailing in the air, his voice drowned out by the hoots and calls of the animals, and the horrified expression on his face.

Hermione laughed as the pony licked Lucius, saliva dripping sloppily all over the man, who looked downright…Hermione couldn't explain it.

It was a mixture of fear, sadness, anger, and repulse. Mostly, it was just fear.

Lucius looked as if he were about to cry.

And so did Narcissa and Draco. Of laughter.

Lucius was actually trembling.

Finally, the zoo keepers came in to scatter the animals, leaving only a few in Lucius' presence.

One of which, a pig, that continued to rub against his leg.

Lucius kicked.

The piglet snorted, a noise from the deep of its throat that was rather frightening, and then resumed to its affectionate gesture.

He kicked again.

The same thing happened.

And again.

Lucius relented, one hand plugging his noise, the other picking up a few stray pellets of food from the ground and feeding it to the animal.

The…thing…wasn't so bad after all. A little smelly, but sort of…cute.

* * *

That night, they returned to the manor with five instead of four. And as they entered the foyer, Lucius bent down to release the squirming little piglet in his arms.

"Welcome home...Bob."

Bob, the pig.


	13. Strangers In The Night

**The feedback was amazing. And if made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.**

**And to clarify. Yes, that was day 4. And according to my calculations. We are going to say it is..May…28****th****. Does that match up with the story content. I think so. But ill double check after I write this chapter.**

**:)**

* * *

**Strangers in the Night**

She wouldn't really call it white. It was rather a creamy colour.

Hermione squinted, shuffling on the bed so that the strain on her neck ceased.

It was definitely not beige.

Off-white, she finally decided after minutes of careful deliberation.

She tilted her head away from the off-white ceiling towards the large balcony windows. The black blanket of sky, so cold and frightening, hung over similar to the silence in the room that engulfed her.

She looked between the two things: the ceiling and the sky, and noted the stark contrast between the colours.

Black, and off-white.

She yawned loudly, only to realize midway that the man sleeping beside her was probably well…sleeping.

"Granger?" a deep voice asked startled.

His voice was surprisingly clear, and he sounded oddly awake.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly, "did I wake you?"

"No." The response was immediate. There was a pause, before he asked quietly, "Are you awake?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, even though she knew that he wouldn't be able to see in the dark. "What a _stupi—"_

Suddenly, the small lamp beside Draco flickered on. Hermione cursed, momentarily blinded by the unexpected onslaught of light. "What the _hell?" _she murmured angrily.

He turned onto his side, looking at her with his back against the light. "Sorry," he said. "Forgot."

"I'd really believe that," Hermione muttered, rubbing her eyes.

Draco chuckled tiredly. "It was worth a shot."

"Well, now I'm never going to go to sleep," Hermione groaned. "And tomorrow, I'm going to wake up with bags under my eyes."

"That's always attractive. Don't blame it on me, you weren't going to sleep anyways," pointed out Draco, shrugging, with his eyes still closed.

"How would you know?" she challenged, pulling her blanket up to cover her face from the bright light.

"Because I wasn't."

Hermione waited for more, but it never came. She paused a moment to consider. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Were you going to sleep?" he then asked.

She shrugged.

"Maybe."

There was the silence again.

"Okay, probably not. I don't know, I just don't feel sleepy." Hermione laughed, returning her gaze upwards. "Oh," she said, surprised, "your ceiling's white."

Draco peeped one of his eyes open, looking at the girl beside him. "Sometimes, I don't get you at all."

Hermione closed her eyes, pulling the blanket back down. With the shadow upon her face cast by the light, Draco thought she looked incredibly serene and peaceful.

He would never know that she thought he looked like that too.

"I don't think I ever got _you, _Draco," she said softly.

"I guess we're strangers then."

"So I'm sleeping _in bed _with a stranger. Well, that's comforting," giggled Hermione. She turned over to her side to face him, and let her eyes travel across his elegant features.

"Hello there stranger," smiled Draco, his sleepy eyes opening ever so slightly.

"Hello there."

She brought her hand out from beneath the pillow, and held it out for him to shake.

He laughed at her, but complied anyways. His touch sent her body into a frenzy. She pulled her hand back, as if it were burned.

Hermione faltered for a moment, before regaining control. "So um," she began uncertainly, "tell me something about yourself."

"Why?" He questioned, not looking at her anymore.

"Because we should at least get to know each other. Since we're strangers and all," Hermione explained.

In truth, she just felt like she didn't know enough about him, and she really wanted to know more. It disconcerted her. She was a factual person. She liked facts. She liked...to _know. _And she didn't _know _Draco. He was an enigma to her.

"Oh, just in case like...my parents ask something about me!" He explained, understanding her intentions only partially.

But that was enough for her. "Sure."

"Well, I was in Slytherin," he said.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him. "It would be more useful to tell me something I don't know. Like..do you have a middle name?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to tell you!"

"But Draco!" Laughed Hermione, "I'm your girlfriend."

He rolled his eyes, but still never looked at her, even as she gazed at him. "It's embarrassing."

"Like Draco isn't embarrassing enough?" She snorted teasingly.

"Hey!"

"I'm joking!" She blushed, and felt the heat creep to her face. "I rather like Draco. I would never change it into something like...Dray. Or Drake."

He cringed. _Drake _was a familiar reminder of reality for him. Hermione didn't notice though, and went on. "Oh, don't tell me it's something like _Lucius _please."

"Why would it be that?" Draca said disgusted.

"I never understood your type of, inter-marrying, stuck up, let's name our kids after ourselves to confuse everyone else, family."

"I could take offense in that," Draco laughed, "if it wasn't a little true. I don't really understand it either."

"Is that why you need me?" asked Hermione curiously, "because your father wants you to marry some other pureblood family."

"It's nothing like that. You know Stephanie?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, she's American." He said it in a way that seemed as though he thought that it explained everything.

It didn't, as Hermione looked at him utterly confused.

"My parents don't like Americans. They hate them," he explained futher.

"So, you want them to hate me so much that they'll accept anyone afterwards," she prodded.

He nodded briefly.

"Oh." She paused. "What a _stupid _plan," she muttered under her breath.

"That's what I said," Draco drawled. He went on. "So, um...what's your favourite colour?"

* * *

It was nearly an hour before they ran out of conversation. And by now, Draco thought he knew everything he could about the girl lying beside him. Everything.

It was sort of scary.

"Well, what's keeping you up so late at night?" he finally asked.

Hermione sighed happily, remembering the days events. "I think my minds still in that rush. I haven't had so much fun—"

"—since you were a child," finished Draco.

She nodded. "The roller coasters, the rides. I had fun today with you Draco."

"Me too."

"You had fun?" she couldn't resist to put in.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, the morbid sullen man did have fun. Well? What have you to say to that?"

Hermione laughed quietly. "Well...I'm glad then."

"I'm sorry that the plan didn't quite go accordingly."

"Nothing ever goes accordingly with my parents," he shrugged. He smiled reassuringly, "it's not a problem."

"I sort of like them. As annoying as Lucius, or rather…Lou," she giggled, "can be."

"Oh, don't go soft on me Granger."

"But he took Bob home!" defended Hermione.

"I still can _not _believe he took the pig home. The dirty disgusting creature. And not only that, he goes and names it _Bob. Why _would you call a pig by a name?_"_

"The pig is so cute though! He oinks!"

"I thought pigs in general oink," Draco said dully.

"You're no fun. What's wrong with Bob?"

"Bob, is such a...typical name. Bob. So...common," he said with disdain.

"It's a name for a pig though. How special does it have to be?"

"A _Malfoy's _pig though," Draco said.

Hermione could picture Bob in her head, hugged closely by Lucius. The image would _never _leave her. "I kind of like your parents."

"Yeah, I sort of like them too."

That surprised Hermione and it was evident.

"You know Draco, you're like a chameleon," she declared.

"And again," he laughed, "I don't get you."

"You keep changing."

"Changing?"

"One minute you're yelling at me. The next you're laughing. One minute you're mean, and the next you're nice—"

"One minute I'm evil, and the next I'm good."

"Exactly!"

"Well deal with it," he teased.

Hermione just shook her head in the little light. She closed her eyes, and allowed the comfortable silence to surround them once again.

It was forever before Draco spoke again.

"So, what's your story Granger?"

Hermione turned onto her stomach, shaking the whole bed as she did. "Hey!" Draco protest, as his comfortable position was ruined.

Hermione rested her head on her hands, her elbows propping her up. "What story?"

"5,000 galleons. Why do you need it so desperately?"

She pondered. "Can't it be that I'm simply greedy and want money?"

Draco too, considered. "Nah," he concluded finally, "you're too good for that. And besides, this is way too much pain for simply the reason of greed. It's not…you."

Hermione wanted to say that really, this wasn't so painful as she thought it would be. Yes, there were the occasional intolerable cold reactions, and the constant insults, but it was rather good fun in the end.

Instead, she said, "And you would be the person to know what is _me, _and what isn't. Because you know me _so _well."

"Nobody has to know you well to know that," Draco put forth. "And besides, after our..." What did muggles call it? What did Stephanie call it? "...heart-to-heart-"

"That was _not _a heart-to-heart," Hermione interrupted.

"Close enough. So what's the story?"

"_Erudstrass."_

"The school?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. She shuffled over to the very edge of her side of the line, peering at Draco. "Not many have heard of it!" she exclaimed. "But I supposed you would have."

"That's really ambitious," commented Draco, his respect for her increasing by a tiny bit. And he thought he knew everything about her. Maybe she was more complicated than he had supposed.

"It's been my dream since I heard about it," she sighed, "but it's always so far away from my grasp. Out of my league."

Draco cursed himself for the words that leaked out of his mouth next. "It's not out of your league Granger. You're the smartest girl I know. Hell, probably smarter than any of them there. Just don't tell them I said that."

"Thanks Draco, I really want it to happen."

"Have you gotten acceptance?"

"It's supposed to come soon."

"They'd be fools not to let you in."

"Not everyone thinks so," frowned Hermione. "I'm muggleborn. I don't deserve to be there in their eyes."

"You deserve it more than anybody."

"Well, it doesn't matter I guess. Even if I did get it…"

"You don't have the money," Draco guessed correctly. She nodded. "And that's where I come in, in my shining armor on my brave steed carrying 5,000 galleons in a bucket."

"That's the idea. Minus your fanciful idea that you're a knight in shining armor."

"Well, as Miss Austen once said, _something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way."_

Hermione actually snorted. "Frankly, I would hardly call you my hero. More like the grinning devil with an evil smirk."

"And the horns," Draco reminded.

"And now I have the perfect gift for you birthday coming up. A devil's costume. Perfectly suitable."

"Oh, very funny." Draco tried unsuccessfully to repress his laugh.

Hermione joined in, reveling in the moment. It was weird, and yet…talking to him seemed to fill her insides with this soothing, happy feeling. She liked it.

The laughs soon died off, and Draco went on. "But you know what I would like?"

"What?" Hermione asked, deciding to humour him.

"Cookies. And milk."

"Now?"

"Of course."

"You can't honestly be thinking about waking the house elves at _this _hour to serve your desire for cookies and milk can you?"

"With _you _around, I wouldn't dare," replied Draco.

* * *

And that was how Hermione got trapped in her pajamas, sneaking through the cold, empty corridors of Malfoy manor at three in the morning.

"Where's your sense of adventure Granger?" asked Draco, obviously enjoying his James Bond moment.

"Back where the warmth was, below the _warm _blanket, on the _warm _bed, in the _warm _room—"

"Okay, we get it already."

And in the next moment, Hermione felt a weight fall upon her shoulders. She turned around abruptly to face Draco behind her, nearly knocking over a glass vase in the process.

"CAREFUL!" he yelped.

Hermione felt the object on her shoulders, and embraced the warmth of it. It was his robe.

"Thank you," she whispered, unwillingly sniffing the musky, woody scent of him that had surrounded her these past few days.

She could make out his shrug in the semi darkness, before they continued on their path.

Hermione didn't complain anymore.

Finally, they made it to the kitchen doors. Draco pressed himself against the wall, placing his finger on his lip to indicate for silence.

He slowly peeked in.

"Coast is clear, pink bunny. I repeat, coast is clear. Over and out, hot ferret."

He slipped into the room, grabbed a handful of cookies, and dashed back out.

Hermione tapped him on the shoulders from behind. "One, I thought we agreed that you were ugly ferret—"

"But I don't want to be _ugly!" _he hissed.

"—and I don't want to be pink!"

"Fine. And?"

"And…I'm right behind you ugly ferret."

"Way to ruin it pink bunny."

"Well—"

Suddenly, he clasped his hands over her mouth. She looked at him with wide eyes, and he gestured into the kitchen with his head.

They carefully listened.

Inside, a high, squeaky voice was muttering to itself.

"Moxie can't do this! Moxie can't!"

House elf, Draco mouthed to Hermione, who nodded.

"What does Master mean by _hot dogs? _Oh, Moxie's going to get punished now. How will Moxie tell Master she doesn't know!_"_

Hermione grabbed Draco by the hand, pulling him into a quiet run. He clambered along, his cookies falling as he did. And when they were far enough, their laughter echoed throughout, blending and mixing together.


	14. Bad Guy My Ass

**Anyways. Thanks to all the reviewers. They make my day.**

**I'm actually the type of loser who pretty much sits at the comp and jumps for joy every time my msn pops up going – 'you have just reviewed an email from '. :)**

* * *

**Bad Guy My Ass**

Hermione woke up the next morning to an empty bed. She also woke up to find that she was lying in the middle of said empty bed—half on her side, half on his.

She cursed inwardly, and rolled back onto her side, taking her blanket with her as it formed a cocoon around her body.

As she caught sight of the clock, she groaned aloud. It was no longer morning—rather, it was the afternoon already. How had she slept in so much?

"Poppy," she called, yawning.

A sudden pop was heard well before Hermione caught sight of the small house-elf she was accustomed to seeing. Poppy was in charge of her and Draco. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Master Draco instructed me to let you sleep Miss," replied the frantic house-elf. "Oh, I'm so sorry Miss. So sorry!"

"No, no," said Hermione thoughtfully. She turned her attention back to the house-elf and before the creature could begin what it wanted to do, she said, "It's alright Poppy. I forbid you to punish yourself."

Moxie nodded. "Thank you Miss." And with another nod from Hermione, the house-elf disappeared.

Hermione returned to her thoughts. Why hadn't Draco woken her up? Lucius would be furious.

But then again, what was so bad in that? Hermione got more sleep, and Lucius would be getting angry. It was two birds with one stone. Or however the saying went.

Even so, Hermione struggled out of the blanket, and stumbled her way into the shower.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," apologized Hermione, as she stepped into the garden where Draco and his parents were. In truth however, she was anything but sorry. She felt, for the first time in ages, truly well rested.

And for that, she sent a grateful smile to Draco, who caught it and returned it back.

"How kind of you to grace us with your presence Miss Granger," sneered Lucius, turning his eye away from the offending girl and back to his pig, lying on its belly beside him.

Narcissa ignored her husband. "Yesterday was tiring wasn't it?" she said considerately, "My dear Draco said you were very tired after yesterday and didn't get much sleep so we shouldn't bother you."

She wondered when it had gotten so warm, as her damp hair blew lightly in the summer's wind—wait… "Draco said that?"

Narcissa nodded, and Draco refused to meet her gaze. "Come sit dear, we were just about to have lunch."

Hermione took her seat beside Draco. "Thanks," she whispered. He merely shrugged, and as she figured that was all she was going to get, she continued on, addressing everybody this time. "What are we having for lunch?"

Lucius snapped his fingers.

Moxie appeared, fear written in every wrinkle of her small face.

"Lunch?" he said foully, staring at the whimpering house-elf.

It was then that Draco and Hermione realized that he was expecting hot dogs. Hot dogs that Moxie had been desperately having trouble with the night before.

"M-moxie didn't—" She looked up with large beady eyes, pleading forgiveness.

"HEAD DOWN!" snapped Lucius. Moxie jumped into the air—literally. "Better, now what were you saying?"

But Hermione had had enough. She stood up, her chair scraping the patio floor as it was pushed back. "Moxie, you don't have to take this from him!"

Lucius turned his head to Hermione, his blonde tendrils whipping around his face as his nostrils flared in anger. "Excuse me?" he said quietly.

And for the first time in her stay at the manor, she felt scared. "It's—it's…"

"Against—" Draco began, picking up for Hermione when he saw that she was faltering. But it wasn't necessary.

Narcissa interrupted. "Against the rules of S.P.E.W. Lou."

"And so?" he challenged.

Narcissa raised her thin eyebrows. "I'm _in _S.P.E.W." She winked at Hermione, who had fallen back into her seat. "Please treat the house-elves with better respect."

"You haven't even had a meeting yet!" exclaimed Lucius.

"But she's right," Hermione put in.

Lucius looked around, sighing as he found that he wouldn't be getting any help from his family. He turned to Bob. "You're on my side right?"

The pig promptly clambered to its feet and wandered its way to Hermione.

Smart pig.

Lucius sighed, "traitor." He turned his glare on Moxie, who looked as if she were going to faint.

Hermione stepped in. "Anyways," she said calmly, "Moxie was saying that I had offered to cook the hot dogs today."

Bob oinked in disapproval.

Moxie—well Moxie looked as if she were about to kiss Hermione.

"Fine," snapped Lucius. "Get out o—"

Narcissa and Hermione cleared their throats at the same time.

"—Thank you Moxie. You may go now." He corrected resentfully.

Draco had to laugh, but one look from Hermione silenced him.

Now, it was Lucius' turn to laugh. Narcissa glared.

And as the men of the Manor bit their lips, the women laughed out loud.

Hermione raised her hand open in the air towards Narcissa. For a moment, the elder didn't seem to know what to do, but awkwardly, she managed to raise her hand as well.

She smiled sheepishly as Hermione reached forward to give her a high-five.

* * *

Hermione waved her wand, and the barbeque stove turned back into a bench. With a satisfied smile, she returned to her seat around the table filled with drinks, bread, and a plate of sausages.

Bob had run off at this time—for obvious reasons.

She laughed as she caught sight of the bewildered looks on the Malfoy family's faces. Apparently, they had never done this before.

Ignoring them, she used her hand to pick up a hot dog bun, and her other hand to pick up the clamp. She placed the sausage carefully onto her bread, before offering the metal tool to Draco.

It wasn't long before the four of them were eating happily.

And that was how Blaise walked in on them—happily eating their hot dogs.

"No."

They all turned their heads to the noise. Draco swallowed the food in his mouth and said, "Zabini!"

"Blaise!" Hermione exclaimed happily.

"Have I walked into the wrong house?" mumbled the man.

"Don't be preposterous," laughed Narcissa, as she lifted the food _with her hands _and took another bite. She stopped halfway when she noticed Blaise staring. "What?"

"Nothing!" he answered immediately.

Hermione stood up to greet him. "Hey," she said.

"Hey," he smiled back. Blaise leaned towards Hermione, much to Draco's unannounced displeasure. "What have you done to them!" he teased quietly.

"It wasn't my fault!" she whispered, looking around. Lucius and Narcissa were politely smiling at their guest, but Draco was clearly doing the opposite, scowling. Hermione shrugged.

"So what brings you here?" she asked.

"A present."

"For?" Hermione asked, as Narcissa and Lucius turned back to their own conversation.

"For you."

At this, Draco turned back around to face them. "For her?" he questioned.

Blaise nodded, and stepped away from the patio entrance.

For a moment, it was empty. Until…

"Not a chance in—" groaned Draco.

…Harry Potter stepped into view.

Hermione flung her arms around the man, who happily returned the embrace. "Oh Harry!"

Blaise laughed, and went to take Hermione previous seat beside Draco. "Thought she would like it," he murmured.

"Of course you would go and invite Harry freaking Potter into my house," bit Draco, staring at the two who were now laughing together.

"Jealous?" asked Blaise, frowning.

"No," answered Draco fairly truthfully. He smiled.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't really know."

Blaise shrugged, sensing that that was really the truth. "She deserves it."

Draco nodded slowly. "I was going to invite him over anyways."

Blaise looked at him, wide eyed.

"She asked," Draco explained. "Sort of."

"Ah. Saved you the trouble then did I?"

"Thankfully," Draco said. "Saves me from looking too good of a guy too," he laughed.

"Always the reputation," Blaise egged on.

"Always," agreed Draco.

He bent around to face the two best friends. "Hermione, why don't you take Harry to the garden and talk there or something?" he suggested.

"You don't mind?" she responded. Clearly, the idea had crossed her mind too.

Draco smiled. He briefly noted that he seemed to smile a lot more recently. "No."

Hermione smiled back, and grabbed Harry by the arm, pulling him away to talk.

Draco turned back to Blaise, who was laughing whole-heartedly now.

"Save _you _from looking too good of a guy? Bad guy my ass. How am I supposed to save you?"

"Shut up."

* * *

"Are you serious Hermione? You took them to an amusement park?" Harry roared in laughter.

"I swear, the Malfoy's aren't what you would expect."

"I can't believe it."

"Believe it," said Hermione.

She smiled. "It's not half bad here."

"So I take it they've been treating you okay?"

Hermione thought of the house-elves, Narcissa, Draco, and _even _Lucius. "Yeah," she replied, "they have."

"No stretch beds and hot irons?" teased Harry.

"Oh be quiet!" she whined. "I actually think I'm the one brandishing the torture tools."

"Well, that was what you were hired for."

Hermione frowned. "Yeah, I guess so."

Harry put his arm around her shoulders. "Hey, hey, are you okay?"

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. "Yeah," she said, staring off into the distance, "it's just…" She looked up at his concerned features. "Never mind."

"Hermione."

"It's alright Harry."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Harry paused. "Okay then," he finally relented. "So how's Malfoy?"

"Malfoy?" asked Hermione, before she could stop herself.

"Are you _sure _you're okay?" asked Harry, bringing his hand to her forehead. "No fever."

She whacked his arm away.

"Malfoy…you know..Slytherin…our age…"

"Oh, Draco!"

Harry's eyes widened, but Hermione didn't see.

"He's fine. He's actually not that bad either."

"You've changed Hermione," said Harry quietly.

She sighed, having feared that in the first place. "Have I?"

"In a good way. But you're not the same anymore."

She looked up at him and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Yeah. I feel like I've changed too. I just don't really know how."

By now, they had stopped walking, having put enough space between the manor and themselves. "It doesn't matter," reassured Harry. "You'll always be Hermione."

She smiled. "I promise."

"Although Ron won't like it a bit."

"Ron?"

"He's still angry you know. And he'll be even angrier that you're happy enough here." Harry sighed. "You know how Ron is."

Hermione nodded silently. _Ron? _she thought. It was only now that she realized he hadn't been on her mind in a while.

"I know you like him…at least…you did…" Harry waited for reassurance, or rejection, of the idea, but Hermione wasn't saying anything. He continued, "but Ron—"

"For the first time in a long time," Hermione interrupted quietly, "I just don't care."

Harry smiled. _Finally._

And as she said the words, the waver in her voice disappeared. She looked off again, away from Harry. "I really don't care anymore."

"It's…good to hear Hermione. Honestly."

"Yeah. It is good to hear," she agreed. "And even better to say."

He smiled.

"I don't care what he thinks about me."

"I don't care what he feels about me."

She looked at Harry, her voice confident now.

"I've moved on."


	15. Anticipation of Perfection

**Anticipation of Perfection**

Time flies. An expression overused to the point of extremes, yet at the same time, overused with reason. Why?

Because it was true.

Time was a funny thing. And as Einstein once explained it, time flies when you are enjoying it, and slows when you are not. It was law. It was science.

It was also a week from Harry's visit, and a day before Draco's birthday. She hadn't seen it coming. Well, okay she had. But she didn't know it would come so fast! She had been planning bits of it for nearly a week now, but how could you blame her. She was naturally an organized person! The only thing was that, said organized person had been so caught up in planning the perfect night that she had forgot the perfect present.

Hermione sighed, as she was bumped and pushed around back and forth in the middle of the ever busy streets of Diagon Alley.

"Blaise?" She looked around frantically, suddenly realizing she had lost sight of the dark skinned boy.

She paused in her footsteps, looking around.

Finally, she spotted it.

The store.

The _sacred _store.

The Quidditch store. It never failed.

Hermione put her hands on her hips angrily, and stomped into the store she knew much too well for her liking—mostly because of Harry and Ron.

"Blaise Zabini!"

The boy looked to the entrance, hearing his name being called. His features morphed into something frightened. "Granger."

"What do you think you're doing?" She stomped her way over, pointing at the rack of magazines in front of him, and more specifically, the one in his hands.

He looked around, but found no sympathetic gazes. Perhaps it was because stuff like this happened all too often in this store. It was a regular event, and nobody paid much attention.

"We have places to go! Things to do!"

"Why are you so worked up anyways?"

That put Hermione's ranting to a stop. She considered his question. Why _was _she caring so much?

She honestly didn't know.

All she knew was that she wanted tomorrow night to be perfect.

"It's because he's been kind to me lately," she explained, partly reassuring herself at the same time. It was the truth anyways.

Ninety—more like eighty—percent of the time in the past week, Draco had been fairly kind to her. Save for some occasional teasing and jesting, and some rude comments which she returned with equal fervor.

"And?" he asked, trying to inch his magazine back into the stand discreetly. Unfortunately for him, Hermione was the opposite of stupid.

She put her hand on his arm, successfully stopping him. "And it's nice to return the favor. What are you doing?"

"Um…" he thought frantically, "looking for a gift?" he asked hesitantly.

She brought his hands up, revealing the _Playwizard _magazine.

He looked sheepish, and she couldn't help but groan aloud.

"Zabini! Gross!" she shrieked, letting go of him.

He slipped the magazine back into the stand, smoothly changing the subject as he led her deeper into the store. "I think what you're doing for him is enough as a present though G-Hermione. Wait…what _have _you planned?"

"Just dinner, and a night at the amusement park again. He really liked it last time." She smiled at the memory—a sort of surreal, blissful smile.

Blaise looked on, not quite sure why he wasn't happy. "Like, a date?" he asked, trying to keep the tone light.

Hermione blushed. "No!" she protested.

Blaise frowned. "But this isn't to anger Narcissa and Lucius."

"Well, no," she said, shrugging. She turned away from Blaise's piercing gaze, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, and to the shelves lined with various brooms. She fingered one. "It's just a birthday dinner," she assured.

"Did you even consider that he might want to spend his birthday with his girlfriend?" he asked quietly, hating that he sounded like he was trying to ruin what she was clearly excited for.

"Of course," Hermione said as the word _girlfriend _rang through her ears, "but he said it was too risky to go out with Stephanie right now and therefore he would be free that night."

"You're really anticipating this thing to be amazing eh?"

He noticed she didn't respond to his questions.

"You think he'd like this broom," she asked, diverting the focus off her. "Although I don't know much about brooms. He plays quidditch still—"

"He has plenty of brooms," Blaise answered, conceding to the shift in subject.

"That's true," Hermione said. "Actually, he has pretty much anything that has to do with quidditch."

The two chuckled. "Then what are we doing here?" Blaise asked. And with that, the two headed for the exit, nodding to the shopkeeper as they went.

They walked into the populated streets again.

"Chocolates?" Blaise asked, his eyes on the store beside them.

"He doesn't like chocolates."

"Oh?" Blaise responded, surprised. He hadn't known that.

"Clothes?" Hermione suggested.

"He's fickle and picky. Besides, he has enough to dress all the kids in Africa. His closet is bigger than mine."

"A difficult task indeed," Hermione teased, feigning seriousness.

Blaise nudged her, and they continued on their way.

After a while, Hermione slowed down. Blaise looked around to see which shop had caught her eye.

"Oh no," he muttered.

"Oh yes," smiled Hermione, as she climbed the steps of the store.

"I'm not going into Weasel territory!" Blaise exclaimed.

"They won't bite," laughed Hermione, as she pressed against the side to allow the people exiting to get past.

"They'll…weaselate me."

"Weaselate?"

"Spread their weasel germs on me," Blaise clarified. "No offence," he added hastily.

She rolled her eyes, and the door magically opened for her. "Come on chicken-face."

"That's even worse than ferret-face," muttered Blaise, groaning but following her lead nonetheless.

He entered the shop as if it were a minefield, carefully and cautiously.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" a voice sang loudly as they entered the shop.

To say that Blaise was frightened was an understatement.

"Hermione!"

"George!" she cried. "Wait, it's George right?"

"Hermione!" he repeated.

"Just kidding," she laughed, "I know it's you!"

"Hermione!" This time, the name came from another person.

"Fred!"

"Hermione!" She turned around, hearing her name come out of Blaise's mouth.

"Yes?"

"I don't know, you guys were all calling names. Thought I'd join in." He shrugged and returned to looking rather awkward. "Wait, why didn't you say _Blaise!" _

"Because," Hermione said, exasperated, "it's a greeting. And I've been with you all day!"

"Why didn't you say it when we met this morning then?"

She sighed.

"Isn't it that—"

"—Zabini kid?" George finished for Fred.

"Yes."

Fred turned his attention to the black boy. "By the way," he called out, "none taken…" He looked to Hermione. She mouthed, _Blaise. _"…Blaise."

"None taken?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

George pointed to the extendable ears, against the outside wall of their shop.

Then, they high fived as Blaise looked rather affronted.

"So, Hermione, what brings you here?"

"I can't visit my two favourite pranksters?" she asked innocently.

"You only know two pranksters," Fred answered dully. "All the other pranksters were too afraid of you."

"So you consider yourself the brave ones eh?"

"The bravest!" George puffed out his chest.

Hermione laughed.

"So?"

"You guys sell costumes? Ones that preferably don't cause rashes, pox or any other form of…thing?"

"Are you sure? We have a great chicken pox causing chicken costume."

"Ironic," Hermione said dully. She imagine Draco, and resisted a laugh. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Aisle eight then. Need me to show you?"

"No, I've got it." She nodded thanks to the twins, before grabbing Blaise and pulling him to the correct aisle.

As they appeared, Hermione's mouth fell open.

Oh yes, they had devil costumes alright. But most consisted of…nothing. Literally. It was more a piece of cloth—revealing and…well…revealing.

Blaise followed her gaze.

"Is that your present to him? You're not planning to...you know..."

"No way!" she shrieked. "It's supposed to be for him."

"Well, Hermione…I don't think he swings _that _way."

"Shut up." Hermione browsed through, trying not to touch the scandalous clothing. Throughout this, Blaise could hear her muttering, and he could make out the words: ridiculous, Molly, and trouble.

She settled for a headband with horns. Really because it was the only thing remotely appropriate. Pity though, Draco would look pretty good in some of the things.

* * *

"Gift shopping is way too hard," complained Hermione, as she and Blaise sat in one of the cozy coffee shops of Diagon Alley.

She took a sip of her drink, itching to rub her aching feet. It had been a day long of shopping, not one of her favourite activities, and she had two small gifts so far. A headband and a photo frame—for the picture she had bought at the amusement park.

"It wouldn't _be _that hard if you just listened to me and got him the magazine."

She looked indignant.

"I'm joking! But seriously, it was never that hard before."

"But I want the perfect present!"

"What is the perfect present?" He sighed.

"I don't…" Her words died off as something across the street caught her eye. "That."

He turned. "Finally."

* * *

Later that night, as Draco was taking a shower, an owl perched itself on the windowsill of their room. She had never seen this owl before. Hermione stood up, deciding in a split second that Draco needn't be consulted, she opened the window.

The owl hopped in majestically.

And that was how it truly looked. Majestic. And immediately, her heart stopped.

This owl came from _Erudstrass. _There was no doubt about it.

It dropped a roll of parchment on her hand.

The name in perfect cursive, _Hermione Granger,_ only confirmed her suspicions.

Her fingers trembled. Her heart pounded.

The owl, after relieving itself of its task, flew off into the distance.

Hermione placed the parchment on the desk.

And after tough deliberation, she opened her drawer and tucked the paper in. She would open it tomorrow. With Draco.

Because she wanted to share the moment with him. It seemed proper that way.

Tomorrow would be perfect.

She was sure of it.


	16. Damned Disillusionment

**Damned Disillusionment**

Hermione woke up early the next day. So early, in fact, that the sun was still glowing, half hidden behind the horizon.

A small smile crept onto her face, as she imagined the day ahead.

She lay in bed for a while, taking in the soft snores of the man beside her. She thought about waking him up, but decided that that would be rather cruel to wake someone up so early on their birthday.

Eventually though, she couldn't take it any longer. Hermione pushed up on her one elbow, and quietly leaned in to whisper into his ear.

"Guess what day today is?" she whispered, her breath tickling his ears.

"Mmghhm," came the incomprehensible response, as his hand dug out from beneath the blanket and waved wildly in the air as if he were trying to swat a fly.

Hermione sighed, sitting up. She took both hands, put them on his shoulders, and shook him gently. "Come on Draco!"

"Leave me alone," he muttered, pulling his pillow out from beneath his head to cover his ears with it.

"Stop sleeping!"

"I like sleep!"

"Well, how do you like this?" she asked.

"Like what?" he mumbled, slowly becoming more and more coherent.

Hermione smirked, evil glinting from her eyes, before she yanked his blanket off his body in one pull. "This," she said, laughing fully at the fact that since Draco slept in only his boxers, he was now shivering at the loss of his warm blanket.

"Damn you." Fully awake _now. _

"I love you too."

"Right. Still. Damn you."

Hermione only smiled.

* * *

"I still can't believe you woke me up on a Sunday morning at 9."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Apparently, she learned that Draco woke up well past 12 usually on weekends. Oops? "Not just _any _Sunday morning," she defended. "It's your birthday today!"

"One year older, and one year closer to death."

Hermione, following behind Draco, stepped onto the first floor from the stairwell. "Why are you being so morbid?"

"Morbid is my thing," shrugged Draco, as Narcissa and Lucius came into view. He immediately brought his hands to his cheeks.

"What are you doing?" But Hermione barely got the sentence finished before Narcissa came over, her hands brushing away Draco's, before pinching his cheeks thoroughly. Rather painfully as well, if Draco's wincing was any indication. "Nevermind," she mumbled, to herself more than anything.

"Oh Draco deary! Another year older! So handsome my boy!" Narcissa cooed happily. "Nineteen. I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks mother."

"Oh and _finally _a real girlfriend to celebrate your special day with!" She continued on happily. Hermione half blushed, half wanting to choke in laughter.

Draco looked at her helplessly, and Hermione shrugged. Narcissa took that time to look at her husband.

He cleared his throat. "Yes um…congratulations. I mean…happy birthday." And that was it, apparently, because Narcissa smiled and went on.

"So, you're going to spend your day with my son right?"

Hermione nodded.

"Alright then, we'll let you be after lunch then."

"Mother, it's alright, I know you like to spend my birthdays with me…"

Lucius shook his head, and answered for his wife. "We've had 18 birthdays to spend with you…" He looked at Hermionie, "we can afford to let Miss Gra-Hermione here have one."

Funny thing was, it wasn't even Narcissa's idea to say that. She smiled with pride.

* * *

"So what did you get me?" Draco asked, the moment they entered their own room.

"I thought birthdays were morbid, marked your progress to death, and thus shouldn't be appreciated," Hermione laughed.

"That _is _what I said…about birthdays. Presents on the other hand." He rubbed his hands together as he left the sentence unfinished.

"Oh, of course," Hermione rolled her eyes saying.

Nevertheless, she went to her drawer and pulled out a small flat box. Incredulously, he looked on disbelievingly, as if he never _actually _expected a present. She would have thought that he would be spoiled.

"What is it?" he asked, rather genuinely.

She handed it to him. "It's only part one," she shrugged, a little sheepish.

He tore apart the paper like a child on Christmas day, eyes gleaming with curiosity and happiness. Did he not get presents often? It didn't seem as though Narcissa and Lucius gave him anything today, come to think of it.

He seemed to pick up on her thoughts. "My family's not big on gifts and stuff."

Soon enough, the wrapping paper that Hermione had carefully put on, was discarded.

"You did _not!"_ he exclaimed. "You kept a copy of this?" He laughed as he set the picture frame on the working desk.

"I couldn't help it!" she laughed. "Look at you! It's a Malfoy moment!"

"A Malfoy moment?"

"It's a muggle thing."

"Muggles have something named after me?"

"Of course not you prick."

"But you said!"

"Draco!"

He laughed. "Thank you. I really like it."

She let out a breath. "Really?" She hadn't been so sure. He was so used to expensive trinkets and toys…

"Positive," he smiled.

"There's more. Check the back of the frame."

"Oh?" He strolled back over and picked up the object. Sure enough, a little white envelope was adhered to the backing. He peeled it open.

After hearing no response, Hermione let her fears get the better of her. "I'm so sorry. You said you wanted to go again, and I guess you weren't serious but I got you the tickets—you don't really have to go," she rambled.

"I love it."

"What?"

"It's perfect."

"It is?"

"I was going to ask again anyways! I love those rides."

Hermione grinned. Birthday presents were way too stressful a thing.

"And besides, not only that, if we go to an…what's-its-name…"

"Amusement park?"

"Yeah that! If we go to that, I could meet up with Stephanie!"

Her smiled disappeared. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. It was suddenly all falling apart. "What?" she whispered, surprised. She didn't understand.

"Well, I could go with you there, and then…you know, Stephanie could meet us there. And there will be so many people there that my parents couldn't _possibly _find us if they wanted to. Of course, I'd be back after dinner." He paused, seeing her face. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him slowly. All the while he had been talking, it seemed like a dream. "I just—I thought…" She couldn't put together her sentence. She put on a brave front. "Yes, I'm okay."

"You wouldn't really mind would you?" He asked hesitantly. "I'll come home after dinner of course, so we could open the rest of the presents and stuff then. You didn't have anything planned did you?"

"But…" Hermione faltered. She thought of all her plans. She thought of how the amusement park should have been Draco and her thing. She thought of how this day should have been absolutely perfect. And then…she saw his face. She didn't need to think. "No—" Her mouth felt parched and her voice was raspy. "No, I wouldn't mind."

And those were the lying words that doomed her.

* * *

Hermione had tried not to look at the clock all night. She had tried.

Sadly, she had also failed.

She heard the door open, and shut. She looked up in hope that it was Draco.

"Blaise," she exhaled. Hermione looked back down.

He walked towards her. "How are you?" he asked quietly. He knew she had been looking forward to the night. He knew, even if Draco didn't, how long she had planned this night.

Hermione shrugged. "Fine," she said sadly. She looked at the clock again. "It's eleven." He was supposed to be home by now.

He nodded.

"Blaise," she said, "Dinners can last until eleven can't they?"

She wanted to believe it did, but she had a feeling—a strong one—that he wasn't going to come home. Come back.

_Please Draco_, she prayed. He had promised to come back, to open the rest of her presents for him with her.

His words damned her. "No."

And yet, she refused to believe it. He would be back. Maybe they just lost track of time at the park.

She twisted her hands around the box on her lap, so thoughtfully wrapped. And with each passing moment, each _tick _of the clock, her hope sunk a notch lower. She tucked her hair behind her ears.

Why did she even care? Who was he to her?

But yet at the same time, she really did care.

"Hermione," Blaise urged. "I'm sorry."

She leaned into his awaiting arms, burying her head into his shoulder, resigning to the fact. "You know, I really wanted this night to be perfect."

"I know," he whispered into her hair. "I know."

She felt a tear escape the corner of her eyes. Only one. But it was enough.

"I don't even know why I care."

"Then don't."

"But I can't!"

He just hugged her tighter, a natural reaction.

"Blaise…" There were a few false starts. "Why couldn't he have just said, _don't wait up_, or, _I'm going to freaking sleep with her tonight and I won't be home, _or something? Why did he have to say he'd be back?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "It's okay Hermione. It's okay." And with that, he took his wand out, and flipped the clock around. "No more of this."

She nodded. She nodded, because she knew, he wasn't going to come home tonight.

And the thought of that killed her.

"Go to sleep," he suggested finally.

_I can't, _she wanted to say, _because I have to keep waiting. _

Silence, interrupted only by the constant _ticking _was the only thing heard for a while.

Blaise didn't know how long it was before Hermione finally shrugged his arms off. But he had known she hadn't fallen asleep as he had suggested. He hadn't expected her to anyways. He watched her.

Silently still, she walked over to a drawer, and pulled out a roll of parchment.

Hermione stared at it for a moment, daring it to be a rejection letter. That would suit her day. She looked towards Blaise. He wasn't who she wanted to share this with. Draco was. But yet…

She brought it back, taking a seat beside him on the bed, and still without a sound, unraveled it.

Shakily, she read, "_Congratulations—"_

And then, she really felt the tears pour. Because how was it, that at the time when she was supposed to be the happiest, she felt the complete opposite. Because how was it that when she had finally achieved the most important step towards her lifelong dream, that she felt like she had really lost.

"Damn the fool," she heard Blaise whisper. But it was all a blur to her.


	17. A Little Bit of Redemption

**You can not believe how incredibly happy I am. I have never received so many reviews for one chapter in my life. So now, I'm going to take some time to respond to some that asked questions etc. that I think would benefit everybody to hear the answers to.**

**To Jillianunleashed,** I _sort of _get what you're saying. But I also sort of got confused a bit too LOL. Sorry. BUT, for the last part of your review, Draco didn't know that his parents would like Hermione. And now it's too late probably, because they already like her. Or at least Narcissa. But you know what I mean? Also, I love the…toy idea. I might use it. Is that okay?

**To basketballstarhottie,** usually only acceptance letters start with congratulations. So yes, she was accepted.

**To Konciawa,** it wouldn't be right if Hermione didn't get accepted. But I see where you're going with that idea.

**To CLEAO girl,** I shall describe more then! : ) Or try to.

**To Drakemi'owne,** I refuse to let Blaise go emo on me. Do not fret. He's a fighter.

**To wannabe witch11,** I couldn't tell you exactly how many chapters there will be. But it will be a longer fic. So right now we're at 16 right? Um…for sure at least 30. Probably 40. Maybe 40. I'm not really sure, because you know how you can have a plan, but it never works out perfectly anyways? Lol, yeah. So definitely at least 35 is my answer.

**And finally, to Talon McGreggor, **you're right. I can't tell what actually is _in _character anymore because I, too, have read way to much fanfiction. Everything's a blur. Sometimes I get mixed up what actually happened, and what only happened in a story. It's confusing.

* * *

**A Little Bit of Redemption**

"I had a lot of fun tonight Drake." The date had gone well.

Draco, in light of his incredibly good mood, ignored the name and smiled. "I'm glad you did."

"I just can't believe you went on those rides!" Stephanie took hold of his hand and pulled him along in the dark night, outside of the amusement park. "I never knew you to be that type of person."

Draco couldn't tell if she was put off or not. He shrugged and smiled, thinking back to the day Hermione took him on the rides. "A friend made me go on one," he answered simply, feeling slightly guilty that the amusement park tickets had been a gift from Hermione and he had taken Stephanie instead.

At the thought of Hermione, he checked his watch. "Oh wow, it's nearly midnight." He frowned. "Look Steph I have to—"

She cut him off, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "You could stay over tonight…" She trailed of, opting to stare at their intertwined hands instead of him. It wasn't that they had never been with each other—they had—it was just that Draco would never stay the night, and would never let her stay the night. It was incomprehensible to her.

He shook his head briefly, leaning down to give her a soft, chaste kiss of reassurance. "I have to get back."

Stephanie finally looked up at them, sadness clear in her eyes. "Why?" she whined.

_Why? _he wondered. Because he wanted to spend at least a part of his birthday with Hermione, his friend. He figured that wouldn't go too well with his girlfriend though, so instead he said that his parents would find it weird if they didn't get to say happy birthday to him before the night ended.

That seemed to make some sense to her, because she nodded, and with another long kiss, let him leave.

"Happy Birthday Drake."

He shook his head briefly without looking back. "Draco," he murmured. "It's Draco."

* * *

Draco opened the front door of his home rather hesitantly. It hadn't occurred to him until now that he didn't really have an explanation to give to his parents why he had been out and presumably Hermione had not.

He was relieved to see that the foyer was empty as he silently tiptoed up the stair, wincing each time the floor creaked. His house was actually quite scary at night.

He padded silently down the halls, wondering where everyone was, until he realized that it was about 20 minutes before 12. He supposed that tomorrow, he could make some crude joke about why he hadn't come out of his room all day.

He wondered if Hermione had waited for him, although he doubted it. He wouldn't be surprised if she was sound asleep. He quietly eased open the door of his room, hoping not to wake her if that was the case.

He _was, _however, surprised at what he saw. Yes, she was asleep. Asleep, tangled in the arms of none other than his best friend, Blaise Zabini, at the foot of his bed.

Anger bubbled inside him.

What was she doing with him?

His eyes stormed over as he glared at the serenity on her face. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to wake her.

How was it that she allowed _Blaise _to sleep with his arms around her, where as he couldn't even pass an imaginary line between them?

When did she get so familiar with him?

Questions burned inside of his head as he watched them, softly snoring, lit in the moonlight.

He felt like a fool, coming home hoping to spend the last of his birthday with her, only to see…

"Damnit," he whispered, coming out a little louder than expected.

He didn't know why he felt this way. Why he felt like...whatever he was feeling—like it should have been him with her instead of Blaise. Fucking Blaise. It was always Blaise.

Ever since back in the day in Hogwarts, it was always Blaise.

He forced himself to look away. He turned towards his balcony, walking over slowly. He unlocked the doors and pushed them open, allowing the rushing cool air to calm him. The semi-transparent silk drapes fluttered around him in the wind, brushing against him. It felt like a caress. It felt like—he looked back at the two—it felt like Hermione's smooth skin against his own when they embraced in front of his parents. That was what it felt like.

Suddenly, he heard a sound of something falling. He noticed a small box on the ground by the bed where Hermione's hands were.

He walked over and picked it up, intending to place it back to it's original position in her hand, but his curiosity got the best of him.

It would do no harm, he figured. And so he walked to his desk to sit down, and opened up the box slowly. He smiled.

Draco fingered the cool metal object, and even in the dimness, he could make out what it was. Hanging from a beautiful silver chain was a small coin. And engraved on the chain was a phoenix, engulfed heroically in flames, with the word 'Order' on it.

He ran the pad of his thumb over it, repeatedly.

"The pendant was a gift from the Order."

He didn't look back, but looked at the picture on the table of himself and her instead. "Oh." He couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice.

Hermione heard it. She heard it, and she ignored it. She thought that she should be angry at him, but couldn't bring herself to feel the anger anymore. "The chain is from me," she said instead, her voice soft and calm, "and so is this." She handed him the headband with horns, but even _she _couldn't smile at the joke anymore. He, however, smiled a little.

"Thanks."

In the background, the upturned clock ticked loudly.

Draco was still fingering the chain. It meant a lot to him. It meant that he was accepted. Finally. Forgiven.

"You came back," she finally said.

"Yes." He didn't elaborate.

Hermione looked towards Blaise, wondering if she should explain his presence here or not. She watched him, thinking he was asleep.

He wasn't. Blaise kept his eyes closed, but listened on.

"I didn't think you would anymore."

Draco shrugged, finally turning towards her. He glanced at her, and then at Blaise. Then, he looked at the present in his hands and the clock that was flipped over. He put it together. "You were waiting for me. How long?"

She shook her head. He didn't need to feel guilty, and she didn't want him to. It wasn't his fault, she realized. He had never truly promised her, and it was only right for him to want to spend his birthday with his—

"I'm sorry," he found himself saying.

She didn't say anything, merely looking way.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, grimacing. "I'm sorry for making you—"

She shrugged.

"I'm really sorry."

She nodded, smiling at him with a small smile.

Reassured by her smile, he smiled as well.

She was glad for the smile, because even in the short time that she had experienced said smile, she had come to like it. Love it even. And she missed it when it was gone.

"I didn't mean to make you wait," he explained, feeling the need.

She nodded. "I know," she said softly. At least, _now _she did. He hadn't known about her plans. He hadn't known how excited she had been at the prospect of spending the day with him. He really hadn't known anything at all. And so, perhaps it wasn't right to blame him for her disappointment. Perhaps it wasn't right to blame him at all. It was all over now anyways. She decided to lighten the mood. "Didn't think I'd ever hear you say sorry though."

He rolled his eyes.

"Wait," she said suddenly, "I have something to show you."

She hurried over, back to Blaise, and picked up a piece of parchment from the bed. She handed it over to Draco, who had followed her.

He glanced at her questioningly. At her encouraging nod, he looked down. He skimmed it over quickly, before abruptly pulling her into a hug.

Surprised, her eyes widened. It briefly registered for her that this was their first _real _embrace. And with that, she tentatively wrapped her own arms around him.

"You made it," he whispered, happy for her.

"Yeah. Happy Birthday Draco."

Neither noticed the man lying on the bed, wincing as his heart tugged painfully. It hurt.

And then, the clock struck midnight.

* * *

He didn't ignore the fact that when they went to sleep the night before, after Blaise had awoken and left, Hermione had resumed to distancing herself from him as much as possible when they were alone. He most certainly couldn't ignore the fact that the imaginary line was once again put up.

Draco sipped his coffee, contemplating, as he ignored his mother incessant chatter.

He looked down into his coffee, watching as he ripples on the dark liquid transformed into the picture of Hermione and Blaise. He dropped his coffee, swearing as the hot liquid came into contact with his skin. The ceramic shattered.

"Draco!" his father yelled, immediately snapping his fingers causing three house-elves to immediately appear

"Are you okay?" Hermione questioned, scrunching up her forehead.

He shook his head to clear his mind of the image that had been haunting him all night. But Hermione took this shake of head as a negative to her question. She immediately leaned over and put her hand to his forehead to check for fever.

He smiled slightly, eyes traveling to his parents, and took her hands in his. "I'm fine," he assured.

That is, until Blaise Zabini appeared in his doorway; his dark hair shining in the sunlight, his grin revealing his perfect white teeth and dimples, his eyes on Hermione and Draco.

_Or maybe not, _he thought.

"What a surprise, Blaise!" smiled Narcissa kindly.

A surprise alright, but not at all a good one. Draco's mind whirled, and unfortunately, the haunting image reappeared, clearer than ever.


	18. Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

**Two's Company, Three's a Crowd**

The day was nice. The weather was good—blue skies and a light breeze. The sun was high up in the sky, and all of this combined should have signalled for a good mood all around.

Should have. Unfortunately, Draco was having a hell of a day.

What did the weather matter when god was clearly out to get him?

Did he not beg for this day to be over? Did he not pray for this to end?

It wasn't the fact he was in the muggle world. No, he had found that the muggle world actually had its benefits. And was sort of fun...at times.

It wasn't the fact that he was in a muggle mall. Malls he could live with. Besides, he secretly sort of found shopping fun. He loved getting new shirts, and shoes. Oh yes, he had a big collection of shoes. One could even call it an obsession.

He looked down at his current shoes.

It wasn't even the fact that he had crap on the bottom of his shoes. Stupid dog. Weren't dog owners supposed to pick up the droppings? But no, it wasn't even that.

He was hungry. He was thirsty. He was..pathetic. Who was he kidding?

The fact was that there was once a wise man. Or was it a woman? A person then. There was once a wise person who spoke the all too true words, _two's company, three's a crowd. _

Draco pondered thoughtfully. A very big crowd at that, he sneered in his mind. Damn that wise guy—or girl.

He watched as his _soon-to-be-ex-_best friend snuck his arm around Hermione. They looked awfully couply-couply.

Shit. When did he start using words like couply-couply? Damnit.

His hands curled up into fists, and his body tensed, as Blaise leant down to whisper something into her ear. It was no comfort to him that Hermione inched her head the other direction, partially because he never noticed.

How had this happened? A day where he had _specifically _planned to spend _solely _with Hermione as apology become this...love-fest with him hanging out behind like a rejected fool. He knew _exactly _how it had happened though. Blaise had announced himself, rather unwelcomed, at the Manor. Then he had stuck his head—his fat stupid poopy head—oh fudge. Poopy? Draco asked himself. What the hell was happening to him? No. No.

Then he had stuck his fat stupid, he reiterated in his mind, head right between Draco and Hermione, grinning like the devil himself had taken over his soul.

"Let's hang out," he had declared.

And of course Hermione, being Hermione, had heartily agreed.

And himself? As he had dedicated the day to make amends to Hermione, what choice did he really have?

So here he was. Dragging his feet heavily along the pavement of a muggle mall, trailing behind the sickening pair.

He rolled his eyes, yet couldn't seem to shake off the uneasy feeling.

"Draco." He heard his name being called, and looked ahead to see Hermione straining her neck to look behind her. "Draco?"

"What?" he snapped.

She frowned, the little dimple on her right cheek oddly prominent in his eyes. Had that always been there? It was sort of endearing—no. In any case, whether the little dimple was cute or not, he found himself saying, "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have snapped."

Sorry. That damned word. He seemed to be saying that a lot lately. More than he had ever said it in his life added together. What was it about Hermione that urged that horrendous word to pour out of his mouth?

"Done sulking yet mate?" Blaise rather rudely asked, not looking back, but looking at Hermione.

His eyes had this gleam, that made Draco want to walk up and punch him. However, Draco used his well-trained patience and calmly replied, not allowing the fact that Blaise was bothering him show. "Done making love to each other yet?" His tone was cold, and bitter in a way.

Hermione's face flushed angrily. "What is _up _with you Draco?"

Blaise smirked. So what if Hermione had forgiven Draco so easily? She obviously cared about him, and he found that fact to be rather an asset to her appeal. The fact that she could forgive. Honestly, to be able to be kind to man who had clearly hated, abused, and made fun of her when she was a child was inconceivable to him, and yet Hermione pulled it off with grace.

He rather liked it. He rather liked _her_, he had come to realize. Funny that even yesterday, the thought hadn't occurred to him. Only when night came around.

So last night had hurt a bit more than it should have. It was just because it was the first time though, he foolishly reassured himself. Blaise Zabini wasn't going to cry in heartbreak. He liked _many _women, and Hermione was no different. He told himself she only interested him because of the fact that Draco was clearly jealous of him. It added to the appeal of Hermione Granger.

"Don't worry about him," Blaise whispered in her ear intimately.

He didn't like that fact that she drew away from him instinctively, but didn't let the disappointment or annoyance show.

The movement by Blaise angered Draco. He gritted his teeth, the wheels of his mind going into overdrive. "_Nothing _is up with me, Granger." The hand that Blaise had on her shoulder mocked him, pushing him to say, "But maybe there's something wrong with you."

Hermione whirled around, shrugging Blaise off. "_All_ day you've been grumbling and whining, muttering angrily at us. I don't get what's wrong. And now you're insulting me. Nothing is wrong with me Malfoy, but maybe you should go take that stick out of your ass and leave us alone." And with that, she stomped off, making a show of painfully pounding her feet loudly on the ground.

Blaise hurried to catch her, throwing a glare at Draco, who was shaking with anger. Him? Grumbling and whining? She was insulting him. He was _not _grumbling and whining. He was just...hell, okay, he had been grumbling and whining.

"Granger!" Hermione stopped mid-stride and turned her head away from Blaise to look behind her.

"What?" She tapped her foot impatiently. "Something _wrong _Malfoy?"

He flinched at her tone. It was the clearly angry, _get on with it or shut up because I'm better than you, _tone. The worst part was that he deserved it and he knew it.

"I'm sorry, that was unnecessary of me." There was that word again. Sorry.

Hermione paused, seeming to consider. Blaise watched from the sidelines, seeing her every emotion flicker on her face. Confusion, anger, frustration, and finally acceptance.

"Yeah," she allowed, "it was unnecessary."

Draco's breath hitched. Why did he care so much anyways?

But then, Hermione walked towards him, hooked her arm around his, and pulled him forwards. She then hooked her other arm around Blaise's, much to Draco's displeasure. "But what can I say?" She shrugged. "I guess I'm a forgiving person."

To say the situation was awkward was unneeded. Draco and Blaise were both stiff, throwing nasty Slytherin-trained glares at each other behind Hermione's back.

But every time she looked, they both forced a smile. And when she looked away, the contest resumed.

Blaise glared because Hermione cared about the freaking idiot of a man named Draco Malfoy.

Draco glared because he simply wanted to and felt the need to. Wise people called it jealously. Sometimes, Draco Malfoy just wasn't very wise.

"Let's go for ice-cream," suggested Hermione, oblivious to the rather palpable tension.

Draco grimaced at the bright and colourful ice-cream parlour they had just stopped in front of. Even outside, he could hear the screaming children. Hermione noticed the grimace. "Or we could...not go." She couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice though.

Blaise grinned and shook his head. "Ice-cream sounds great. Unless some people aren't up for it?" The implication was obvious. The challenge clear.

Draco ignored it. But seeing the slight frown on Hermione's face, he gave a slight smile. "Do you want to?"

She nodded.

"Then let's go."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Sickening," he muttered quietly, only for Draco to hear.

"That's what you are," he bit back, equally discreet.

They glared.

"What flavour would you guys like? My treat," Hermione looked back from the paying counter.

Surprised, the two men snapped their heads around.

"Chocolate," they said simultaneously.

They sneered at each other. "Strawberry," they corrected, again, together.

Draco growled. "You take chocolate, I take strawberry," he hissed angrily. "I don't want the same thing as you."

"What if _I_ want strawberry huh?" snarled Blaise.

"Then you take it and I'll take chocolate."

"Well no, because I want _both._"

"Don't be an ass."

"I want to be an ass."

Draco could barely contain his anger. "Vanilla for me then," he bit out to Hermione, who nodded and proceeded to order.

"I change my mind," called Blaise, a second afterwards, "I would like mango." He smirked at Draco. "Oops, sorry."

"I'll bet you are."

"I am."

"Next thing, you're going to tell me you have a halo on your head."

* * *

Hermione savoured the taste of her chocolate ice-cream, allowing the cool melted creamy substance to slide down her throat. "Mmmmmmm," she murmured.

Draco and Blaise stared.

"What?" she asked, self-consciously wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Is there something on my face?"

Blaise shook his head. "Is the ice-cream _that_ good?"

She nodded.

"Do you have to make those...sounds?" gestured Draco, frowning.

"Mmmmmm.."

"Yes. That." He said shortly.

"Oh, mmmmmmm, okay, I'm sorry." Blaise groaned looking out the car window. Anything but looking at Hermione would do.

Draco, too, looked away. Moaning sounds were ... affecting the both of them rather painfully.

An awkward silence ensued, and Hermione took to twiddling her finger.

"Soo," she ventured, "I had fun today." She looked at the profiles of the two men on either side of her, both with masculine bones and captivating features.

"Yeah," replied Blaise shortly.

"Fun," agreed Draco reluctantly.

"Right," snorted Blaise quietly.

Hermione lifted her eyebrow. "Um..."

"Tell me Blaise," Draco cut in, saving Hermione from awkwardly forcing conversation. "Why are you still here?"

"Draco!" she gasped. "That's rude."

Both men ignored her, which made her slightly put off. It had been like this all day in a way. It was like midway through the day, Draco and Blaise slipped into their own world.

"Because I want to be here," snapped Blaise. "You got a problem with that?"

"What if I do?"

"Then you'll have to learn to not get your way for once."

"Um.." Hermione tried interjecting.

"Are you implying that I'm spoiled?"

"Are you implying that you're not?"

"Um.."

"What are you then huh? You're the same as me Zabini."

"Not nearly as obnoxious, right Hermione? You said he was obnoxious the other day right?"

"Not really..." Hermione nervously squeaked.

"And when was this?" Draco growled, looking at Hermione for the first time since the argument began.

Hermione opened her mouth to defend herself, but never got the chance to let any noise out.

"When you left her _waiting _for you for hours," Blaise said simply.

"Well it wasn't his fault..." she tried defending Draco.

"It is his fault Hermione, why won't you see that?" shouted Blaise, his voice finally escalating a notch. Until then, it had been a match of calmness. Who had the cooler voice? Who had the colder tone?

"I said I was sorry!" returned Draco, equally loud.

Hermione nodded furiously, worrying where this was heading.

"Is sorry enough?" snorted Blaise. "Was sorry there for her when she was sad? When she was staring at a clock in a trance while you were off prancing around with your _girlfriend?" _

"At least I _have _a girlfriend. Unlike you, who can't keep his dick under control and doesn't know the meaning of _commitment. _"

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "STOP, both of you."

"Commitment." Blaise laughed outright. "You're one to talk. You're on the verge of cheating on Stephanie."

"I am not!"

"You better remember, Malfoy, that you have a _girlfriend."_

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Although Draco knew exactly what he meant.

"Keep your thoughts on her, and her only."

"Because I'm a threat to you Zabini? Is that it?"

"DRACO! BLAISE!"

The car, rather dramatically, rolled over a speedbump, sending them all flying up for a moment.

"A threat? Hardly," scoffed Blaise.

Draco laughed, a cruel heartless laugh. "That's it isn't it. You're scared."

"Of what?" snarled Blaise, the fact hitting a little close to home.

"Because you like Hermione and you know I can get her and you can't."

"Shut up both of you!" Hermione all but screamed. But still, the boys were too involved to notice.

"You couldn't get her if you tried. You weren't there for her. All you ever were to her was someone she could use for money. "

"That's not true," snarled Draco, his eyes narrowing.

"You know it is."

"So what if it is?"

Hermione was suddenly quiet. Her mind reeling from shock. Did that mean that Draco thought that...she only cared about...money? She gulped.

"It means whatever she is to you is fake." Blaise congratulated himself—icing on the cake. He didn't notice the girl beside him, flaming up in anger.

"It doesn't matter does it? You want her because it's a challenge. But you can't have her. Because she's my fake girlfriend."

"Like that matters."

"I don't want her hanging out with you. So she can't."

"You can't do that!" Blaise, for the first time, felt unsure.

"I can, and I will. We have a contract and—"

"So you don't want her, but you won't let anyone else want her. You're a greedy son of a—"

"As I was saying," Draco interrupted, "We have a contract and—"

Suddenly, Hermione steady, eerily calm voice finally caught their respective attentions. "Who do you think you guys are?"

Her angry brown eyes nailed on them. She zeroed in one Blaise first. "Who are you to say what I say and do with Draco is fake? Is it any of your business? No. Is it true? No. I'm not a game for you to play Blaise Zabini. Don't you _ever_ assume things about me. Ever."

Now, her eyes travelled between the two. "I'm not a toy. Play with me when you want. Throw me around when you feel like it."

She glared solely at Draco now, her voice unsteady. "And I'm not _yours_. I can do what I want. I can see who I want. And I will do what I want. A contract is just a freaking piece of paper," she cried angrily. She threw her hands up into the air, enraged. The car pulled to a stop. "And I don't give a damn about you and you're money. Go kiss it and sleep with it if you like. It was never about the money. Since you apparently didn't know that," she swallowed her angry tears, faltering slightly. "I thought I'd enlighten you."

"Who do you think you are Draco Malfoy? God? Get over yourself." And as if suddenly remembering Blaise, she furiously added. "Both of you piss off and leave me alone."

And with that, she crawled over Draco and out the car, running up the front steps of the Manor, climbing them two steps at a time. She hated him. She hated Draco. No. Malfoy. Tears rolled down her face. How could he doubt her like that? They had treated her as if she weren't there. As if she was like...a prize. But that was so like them.

She pushed the front doors open, ignoring the desperate calls from behind her. She hated Draco Malfoy. She had half the heart to quit and go home that very moment, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She wanted to believe it was because _Erudstrass_, her dream, was keeping her going. But it wasn't. It was because she had fallen in love with the bastard.

She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. But she could do neither.

She hated him. She hated him.

She loved him.

She wanted to scream.


	19. What Goes Around Comes Around

**And again, THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS. I would just like to say that this is the most reviews for a story I've ever gotten. And it makes me so smiley**** happy. Yay. As always though, REVIEW**

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**What Goes Around Comes Around**

The sun tickled his skin with warmth, so much so that he felt that his skin was burning. He turned over to his side, trying to shake of the heat, but it only seemed to follow him. He sighed and returned to his original position, lying on his back. The moment he forced his eyes open, then sun blazingly attacked it with its brilliant rays, as if punishing him for whatever sin he had committed. And then, as he rolled over, expecting an empty bed as per usual, he rolled right off the soft surface and onto the ground. When had his bed become so narrow? He craned his neck up, wincing as the ache in his neck throbbed. Oh right. His bed had become so narrow because his bed had become the couch. Hermione had made two things pretty clear the moment he had managed to catch up with her—that and the fact that he and Blaise were douche bags. He let his head fall back against the hardwood flooring. Oh yes, Draco Malfoy, it was going to be bad day.

As Draco descended the main staircase of the Manor, he thought about the previous night. He knew he had probably gone too far. He hadn't really meant to, but it had simply slipped out in his rage. He knew he should be sorry. And he was.

"Yes Blaise. No, no it's alright."

Draco paused in his walking and listened. It was obviously Hermione talking. And she had obviously forgiven Blaise. Maybe she had forgiven him too? With that thought in mind, he sped up, almost racing to the dining room where the noise was coming from.

He pushed the doors open with both hands, silencing the busy chatter that had been occurring. There was absolutely no noise.

"Er...good morning?" Draco shrugged awkwardly. He looked around, from the displeased grimace on his father's face, the smile from his mother, the laughing look from Blaise, who he supposed had decided to drop in for breakfast, and the glare from Hermione.

That angered him. How was he not forgiven? But of course, _Blaise_ was forgiven. _Blaise. _

He strode purposefully into the room, and knowing it would bother Hermione, paused behind her chair and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. He could feel her tense up beneath him, and feel her cheeks flame up.

He straightened his back again, sent a smirk to Blaise, and proceeded to his seat on the other side of her. If this was how she wanted to play it, this was how it was going to be: war.

Hermione thought the exact same thing.

Once she realized what he was doing, she narrowed her eyes as she watched him sit, almost arrogantly. She could almost feel Draco's smirk appearing. She turned away to Blaise quickly, and smiled brightly.

Draco frowned, watching as she began talking animatedly to Blaise. Her eyes lit up and she leaned towards him.

He cleared his throat loudly.

Hermione turned towards him, annoyed. "Yes?"

"Pass the salt," he nodded towards the salt.

"Pass the sugar _please_," she retorted.

"Fine. Pass the salt PLEASE."

"No," replied Hermione simply.

"No?"

"I want the sugar."

"And I want the salt."

"Why do I care?" she whispered so that his parents wouldn't hear.

"I asked first."

"Don't be childish."

"Who's childish?"

At the exact same moment, Draco and Hermione both turned to get the objects, and slapped them on the area between them at the same time.

"Salt. " "Sugar."

"Fine." "Good."

Draco focused on putting salt on his eggs as Hermione ignored the sugar and returned talking to Blaise as if nothing had happened.

Draco, not knowing what to do, reached out and put his arm around her waist. He could feel her stomach clench. She turned towards him abruptly, and he pulled her, or rather her chair along with her, towards him so that their chairs were touching. The scrape of the chairs resounded around the room.

"What are you _doing?" _she hissed, her head forced on his shoulder.

"What are _you_ doing?" he returned through his teeth. "Morning mother, morning father. Good morning...Blaise."

"Good morning dear," Narcissa replied. She continued somewhat hesitantly. "Are you sure that's comfortable Hermione? It doesn't look very comfortable."

Blaise snorted.

Hermione glared at Draco through the corner of her eye. "It's fine," she spat angrily, "It's perfectly _fine!"_

"Get your hands off me," she hissed to him.

"Why?," Draco seethed, tightening his hold on her. "Since you find it _fine."_

Hermione tried to squirm away. "Oh you're going to get it."

"Hermione?" Narcissa asked.

"Yeah, it's totally the new thing these days." She didn't even look at the elder women.

Draco returned her glare. "Everybody's doing it," he managed, again without looking at his mother.

"Okay then..."

Hermione was still squirming to get out of Draco's grasp. Finally, realizing that it wasn't going to happen, she resigned, and simply moved her plate over. As she grasped her coffee cup though, she came up with an idea.

"Oh FU—" Draco yelped, jumping from his seat as steamy liquid poured into his lap.

"Oops," smiled Hermione, shuffling her chair away, "shaky hand today I guess." She shrugged, and looked pointedly at the large brown stain on the front of his pants. "Was it hot?"

"WAS IT HOT?"

"That _was _my question, yes. I'm glad you're hearing's not impaired. Although some other functions may be."

Blaise yelped in laughter.

Narcissa and Lucius' jaws dropped.

"Brain functions I mean," Hermione smiled angelically. "What were _you _thinking Draco?"

Lucius gulped. "Of course he was thinking that," he snapped. "Draco go change!"

"Yes _Draco, _run along now," she patronized. And as Draco left the room, Hermione had resumed her conversation with Blaise.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

Because when he came _back,_ she had her hand on his. Hell, he had only been gone for a few minutes! Draco was fuming as he pushed his chair back and plopped down.

Hermione smiled brighter whilst looking at Blaise; she could almost hear the steam blowing from Draco's ears.

"Oh Blaise," she all but purred.

Draco could only glare.

"You're so..." she made a point of looking around, before whispering rather loudly, "...manly."

Draco felt his drink sear his throat as he gulped it down.

Suddenly, the table shook. Lucius had thrown his hand against it, his own anger matching his son's. Why?

"Weren't you just leaving?" Lucius asked Blaise pointedly. It was cold and unfriendly—so unlike how he usually treated the boy.

All other members of the table frowned in confusion. However, Blaise took the hint. He didn't really have a choice in any case.

"Yes, just about." He looked at Hermione. "I'm sorry about last night. I'll see you later."

She nodded absently, still staring at Lucius. She was obviously confused, as with the rest of the group, but the man offered no explanation.

"Lou?" Narcissa finally spoke out, once the grand doors had shut. "Loulou?"

"Continue on," the man demanded in a hard voice. "The food will be cold."

Hermione silently picked at her food, watching the Malfoy family. She realized that she would never understand them.

It was moments before anyone spoke.

"One day, I think I'll marry you." Draco smirked at Hermione, his eyes challenging her. Lucius spat his drink back into his cup, rather loudly. Hermione did the exact same, sputtering. All heads turned.

He coughed loudly. "What did you SAY?"

"WHAT?" she yelped.

"One day, I'll marry her," Draco shrugged, grasping Hermione's hand in his own and pulling it above the table.

She tried to pry her hands away. And when she couldn't, she kicked him from beneath the table. She smiled, satisfied, as he grimaced under the pain.

"M-marry?" Lucius stuttered.

"Oh yes." "Oh no."

Draco glared. "You're not helping," he hissed. Louder, he replied, "Not yet anyways is what she means."

She sneered. "No it's—" He used his free hand to cover her mouth, but she continued muttering underneath. So he did the next best thing. He cut her off with a pair of warm lips on her own.

They were soft, and warm. They were teasing her. She felt herself lose her will to struggle, allowing him to pull her towards him.

Draco had never planned this. But, as he pressed his lips onto hers, he felt the need for more. It was—

Hermione regained her sense at that moment, pushing him away weakly. She didn't know what to say.

Draco looked at her, his hand still around hers. "I love you," he said. And no matter how much she wished it to be true, she knew that it was for his parents. It was to anger her. And that hurt. She wrenched her hand free, and briskly walked out the door.

"What just..happened?" asked Narcissa, running her hand up and down Lucius' back to calm him. His nostrils flared. "Where is she going?"

"It's shock," Draco answered quickly, before turning and running to catch up with her.

Lucius shook his head after his son left. "I need to lie down. This must be a dream."

* * *

"Hermione!" He grabbed her hand. She froze.

"What?" she spat.

"It was..." he remembered what she had once said, "necessary..."

"NECESSARY?"

"You were going to say..."

"I DON'T CARE!" she turned around preparing to leave.

"You weren't cooperating!"

"Have you ever considered that I don't _want _to cooperate with you? I HATE YOU!" She tried to leave, but Draco wouldn't let her. He was about to say something when another voice broke in.

"Hermione dear, are you okay?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly for Draco to see, before turning back around to face Narcissa. Draco automatically put an arm around her, but she shrugged it off, frustrated. "I'm FINE, " she all but yelled.

"You don't sound..."

"I'm—" Hermione burst.

"She's fine," Draco cut in smoothly. "Really mother."

"I know it must be a shock. Draco has never said that he loved anyone before." Narcissa nodded thoughtfully, as if it were to be a big shock to Hermione.

Hermione only shrugged. "I could have guessed," she said resentfully. "He's just _that _type of guy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco hissed into her ear.

"A freaking bastard who doesn't—"

"What's that type of guy?" Narcissa asked curiously.

Hermione smiled, rather fakely. "Oh, a _great _guy," she said sarcastically, nudging Draco as hard as she could in the ribs. "He has to _mean _it, before he says it."

"Oooooohhh," Narcissa nodded. "Yes, yes. "

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. She suddenly thought of something though, that made her stop. "Narcissa," she began. "The first S.P.E.W. meeting is tomorrow." And then she left. After a few words with his mother, Draco ran to catch up with her.

* * *

"That was rude," he told her, as he neared.

"You're rude."

He ignored her. "That was rude."

She stopped walking and threw her hands up. "Isn't that what you wanted? The sooner I get this done, the better. So let's just get on with it! S.P.E.W. tomorrow, I'll make it happen."

"Tomorrow? Already? But..."

"Get out of my way."

He didn't move.

"Get out of my way," she threatened.

"Tonight, I'm sleeping on the bed."

"Not a chance buddy. Unless you REALLY want to impair those functions.."

"What happened to you? I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry for what I said last night. I don't get it!"

"I just find it easier to do this when we're not friends Draco," she answered truthfully.

"Sooner or later, we're going to get figured out if you keep acting like this."

That was all he thought about. Hermione shook her head. "I won't spill. I've got to go to _Erudstrass _remember." She gulped down the hurt. "Now get the hell out of my way."

He moved away, resigning.


	20. Too Close For Comfort

**Why would Blaise be told to leave? Because Lucius didn't like Hermione flirting with Blaise. **

**What else? Oh...the i love you comment. Um...well if you look at where Draco is coming from right now. No, it's not real.**

**AND. I love suggestions. I love to hear reasons why you think the chaps were good or bad. And so I'll try to add more detail to this one.**

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**Too Close For Comfort**

The room was silent, save for the sounds of the plastic knitting needles hitting each other. Hermione, intent on her latest red and blue miniature sock did not notice.

Draco cleared his throat, looking between his mother and Hermione. His mother shrugged, hold her two large needles in front of her face, staring at them intently.

Draco leaned forwards, scrutinizing Hermione's quick hand movements. He picked up his two needles and tried to imitate them.

Over, in, out, right, over, left, right, in, out...

He found he was more drumming, than doing whatever she was doing. In any case, he began feeling more confident, and smirked to his mother, who was still pondering with the two needles raised high. She was staring at them as if they could magically move on its own.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione, suddenly looking up from her work. She brushed the strands of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear.

"Sewing?" Draco bit his lip. "It's sewing right?"

"Dear, it's crocheting!"

"Dears," Hermione mocked, "it's _knitting._"

"Right."

"Oh."

Hermione sighed. "Narcissa, I thought you said you knew how to knit."

She nodded. "Well..yes..." Then she looked at the two needles now laying in her lap. "...with magic," she continued. "But you won't let us use it."

"Of course not!"

"Why not again?" Narcissa looked sheepish. "It's so much easier!"

"But there would be no thought in it. No sentimental value! It would mean nothing!"

Narcissa nodded, but clearly didn't seem to understand.

Hermione shook her head, and set down her square of work. "Draco, stop it! All you're doing is making a knot!" She picked at his piece of yarn. "Look, if you're not going to take this seriously, then get out of here. You weren't even invited."

"It's my house!" Draco snapped, throwing down the needles.

"Technically," Hermione mused, "it's your father's house."

"And technically, Spew doesn't do anything," Draco scoffed, "So let's not get too technical shall we!"

"It's S.P.E.W.!" shouted Hermione, standing up.

Narcissa frowned. "Draco honey, maybe you should leave," she said softly.

"Don't take _her_ side!"

Narcissa blinked her crystal blue eyes innocently, and shook her head, her blonde hair swinging. "I'm not taking sides," she said calmly. "I'm just saying...she has a point."

"What point?" Draco threw his hands up in frustration. "This is a conspiracy. This is SEXISM."

Hermione walked over to Draco slowly, tiptoed, and pretended to kiss him lightly on the cheeks. "Please _honey_," she asked loudly.

"You don't know the meaning of sexism," she whispered into his ear, "so deal with it."

"But _honey,_" he mimicked, smiling at her with a sickening smile. "I want an actual reason."

"Well for one, you can't even get the name of my organisation right. It's S.P.E.W."

"So just because my mother," he gestured at Narcissa," can say S.P.E.W., she's in?"

"And she donated the mandatory two sickles." Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out the two sickles.

Draco sneered. He reached into his own pocket, and pulled out a small handful of galleons and sickles, dumping all of it into Hermione's open hand. "There." He proceeded to sit back down onto the couch, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Thanks for you donation. Now, please leave." She smiled.

"But I'm _in_ now! I donated!"

"Your mother is also in because she has a badge." Hermione smirked. "Thanks for the generous donation anyways though."

"You tricked me!" Draco groaned as Narcissa produced a badge from her side, with the letters S.P.E.W. labelled clearly. "When did she get that!"

"Before now obviously," Hermione answered vaguely, before pushing him out the doors of the sitting room. "Thanks, now bye."

And before Draco could get another word, the door slammed. And just as he reached for the handle, he heard the lock click.

"But..." He shook his head. "Women."

* * *

"Well finally he's gone," Narcissa said, searching for some common ground when silence returned to the room.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly and walked back to the couch, returning to her knitting.

Seeing as she was getting no further response, Narcissa continued. "So my son—"

"You know," Hermione suddenly interrupted, "I don't really want to talk about him." Her tone was final, and she looked away.

Narcissa didn't pry. She simply wisped her blonde hair back into a ponytail and picked up a ball of white yarn and her two needles. "Okay then," she answered.

She held out the three items.

Hermione looked up, confused for a moment. Then, as if sensing the mutual agreement, she smiled slightly and nodded, shifting over in her seat so that Narcissa could join her on her left.

"See first, you make a slip knot," she began teaching, leaning over to assist the elder woman. "Yes, just over like that."

"Take that in your left hand...yes, and then put the other needle in there too." Hermione demonstrated with Draco's forgotten needles.

"Oh, that's pretty simple. Now what?"

"Okay," Hermione tucked her hair back, "now take the yarn under the right needle."

Narcissa picked up the yarn with her left hand. "No, the other hand," Hermione instructed. "Yes, like that."

"And then over the right needle. Draw it through. Now pull the left needle to the back of the stitch, and take the right needle out."

"Like this?"

"Exactly," Hermione smiled, temporarily forgetting all about Draco, "That's called a stitch, or casting on. You just keep repeating this for now, then we can make shapes and patterns after a while."

Narcissa nodded with a smile, and began immersing herself into her work, her head tilting as she did.

Hermione watched for a while, making sure she was getting it, before returning to her own. For a while, neither spoke as they concentrated.

"So...you've really never done this before?" Hermione asked out of the blue, as she switched colours.

Narcissa's lips twitched, a sort of half frown forming. "Nobody ever taught me. Knitting was sort of...below my family I guess." She looked at Hermione apologetically.

Hermione shook her head with a smile, as if to say it was okay. "My mother taught me," the girl offered. "When I was a child." Hermione felt herself fall back into the past.

"I wish my mother had taught me stuff like this. It's actually not that bad. Kind of relaxing."

"I heard that...well...your mother...wasn't really.."

"Yeah," Narcissa said softly. And for a moment, there was an awkward pause. "Yeah..." repeated Narcissa, in somewhat a trancelike state.

"I'm sorry."

For a second, Narcissa froze. Then slowly, she began to move again. First her hands, moving the yarn around, and then the needles. Finally, she spoke.

"I'm not stupid you know."

Hermione's breath hitched. She felt her heart beat at an impossible rate, so fast that she felt as if it would come out in any second. And yet she managed to swallow through her suddenly dry mouth and croak out, "move on to the next row." Her hands trembling slightly, she managed to take the needles from Narcissa.

She couldn't possibly mean the deal. She just...couldn't. Hermione wasn't ready to quit yet. She didn't want to leave. The next seconds seemed to last an eternity.

Once the needles were returned to her, she continued."It's obvious that you and Draco are having a fight. You don't have to hide it from us. Partners fight. It's a part of love." She looked at Hermione curiously.

Hermione breathed out loudly, her heart slowing down. "R-right."

"So is it true?"

Hermione paused. "Yes," she said slowly, and somewhat truthfully.

"I know it's probably his fault—"

Before she realized what she was doing, Hermione defended him. "No it's not really all his fault."

Narcissa just looked at her. "As I was saying, I know it's probably his fault, but..." she faltered, "nobody ever really taught him how to be a good person. I was never a true mother. And Lou, well..."

Hermione stopped knitting by now. She waited patiently.

"Lou loves him. He just doesn't know how to show it. And Lou himself, he's not bad."

Hermione begged to differ about Lucius, but nodded anyways. "Draco...he's not really a bad person. Not at all," Hermione said softly.

"Times have been changing. Everyone has been, but none more so than us. It's hard sometimes, not to revert back to what you've been taught all your life."

Hermione looked away. "Like how you'll never forget how to ride a bicycle once you learn?"

"Yes. To put it simply." Narcissa sighed. "All his life, he's been taught how money is everything, how rules were to be regarded, how...some were above others." She looked down. "It's not something to be proud of Hermione—you have to understand that we are not proud of it—but it's what we've all been taught. He's tried probably the hardest out of all of us to change."

"I get it," she said softly. "I do."

Narcissa nodded. "I'm sure you do. You're a smart girl." She smiled and Hermione blushed. "Maybe that's what my son needs. Someone that would get mad at him. Someone to put him in his place."

Hermione bit her lip.

"You like my son don't you?"

Hermione looked up, surprised. The question caught her off guard, but as she looked into the elder woman's eye, she couldn't bring herself to lie.

She looked at the ground, hesitating before she began. "I think," she began slowly, "that I do. Yes, I do."

She smiled slowly, while Narcissa grinned. "Good," she said in return, "because you'd be good for my son Hermione. To be frank, I like you. I really do."

Narcissa reached out and placed her hand over Hermione's.

"I.." Hermione stuttered. What could she say? She looked around the room nervously, her eyes finally travelling to the hand over hers, and then to the owner's serene and benign expression. "I like you too Narcissa." And surprisingly, she found that it was the truth. Slowly she smiled.

"We'll make a great team, against those Malfoy men," Narcissa teased. And it was then that Hermione knew their plan had backfired. Narcissa had accepted her. And it was also then that she realized, she didn't want the plan to work for Narcissa, because she found she rather liked her.

Hermione shouldn't have let herself care. But now...she didn't want to break Narcissa's heart. She didn't want the woman to be disappointed in her, and surely she would be if she found out that this had all been a plan—a deal.

Hermione looked sadly at the smiling, unknowing mother. _I'm sorry, _she longed to say, _I didn't mean for this to happen. _

How had she suddenly come to care about this crazy, sometimes weird and mostly insane, Malfoy family?


	21. Accounts of My Heart

**Ok, for those who didn't catch my last A/N about two chappies ago, when Lucius was angry and kicked Blaise out—it was because he didn't like seeing Hermione flirt with Blaise. Get it? He doesn't want that...**

**ALSO, THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS. 600 MARK! It's all so exciting for me. PLEEASE CONTINUE.**

**And, due to the many comments, I will try my hardest to lengthen my chapters.**

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**Accounts of My Heart**

Hermione sat at the foot of the cool marble staircase, her head in her hands as she leaned against the railing. She bit her lip as she thought, her forehead scrunching up in concentration. Hermione Granger prided herself in knowing things. It was her knowledge that set her apart. She was not rich. She did not have the blood. No. But she had knowledge.

However, there were times where she was simply at loss. It was unavoidable. And right then seemed to be one of those times.

She didn't know what to do anymore. Should she continue on with the plan, and risk breaking the Narcissa's heart? Should she quit, and lose her dream of _Erudstrass?_ But she had to be honest with herself. She subconsciously placed her hand over her heart—she would be losing Draco too. Not that she had him anyways, a voice cruelly reminded her in the back of her head.

Maybe it would be better that way. If she left, maybe she could forget about the past few weeks, and all that had happened. She was comforted in the fact that it was probably still possible-to forget him.

"Miss Granger?"

She barely recognized her own name. She looked up, a little flustered, to see Lucius staring down at her. Or rather, the spot beside her. Go figure. "Yes?" she whispered, her mind still somewhat lost in thought.

"The manor is not pleasant at night," he said curtly, feeling that it was his duty to warn the girl, "it would be best if you returned to your room."

Hermione nodded, but remained seated. Lucius shrugged, and walked off. "Suit yourself."

Hermione didn't hear though, as her mind raced. When she had been a girl, her mother had taught her to make a list of pro's and con's to weigh decisions. In theory, when there were more reasons on one side of the list, that should be her answer.

The problem was, no matter how many pro's there were about backing out on the deal, she couldn't get over the con's. More specifically, she couldn't get over leaving. Because if she left, she knew that she would probably never see Draco again. Their paths didn't cross. Their worlds didn't touch.

It was only then that she noticed Lucius had left. What had he said before? She hadn't taken notice. She shrugged and pushed herself up to a stand. Slowly, she wandered her way back to her room, letting her feet guide her.

She barely noticed that Lucius had left the lights on for her. But the thing was, she _did _notice. And she winced.

* * *

Draco glanced at his clock, moaning as a pair of small hands eased away the knot in his shoulders. He could barely keep his eyes open and focused on the moving hands of the clock. Each time he tried to read the time, the pair of hands would ease him into such of state of relaxation that the number would erase from his mind, leaving him to only sigh loudly and try again.

"Oh that's so good, don't stop," Draco sighed. "Oh yes!"

Finally, however, he managed to actually comprehend the time on the clock. It briefly entered his mind that it was terribly late and Hermione should have returned by now, but another push and the thought slipped away. She was a big girl. She could find her way. In the mean time...

Suddenly, the door flung open. Draco, half-naked, froze.

It wasn't that that made him open his eyes though. It was fact that the hands on his back stopped moving. "Why are you stopping?" he snapped. He tilted his head to lie against his left ear, looking to his right. "Oh, it's you."

It was a moment before Hermione, standing at the door, finally gained sense of what was happening in the room.

"WHAT ARE YOU _DOING?_" she asked angrily, stomping into the room in such a way that Draco could barely hide his smile. "What is so funny?" she continued on, huffing, with her hands on her hip.

"Can't you see this is _private, _woman?"

"This," she gestured widely to the ongoings in their room, "is _disgusting. _Stop right now!"

He cocked his eyebrow, before turning his head back to its original position. "Moxie, continue," he commanded simply, paying Hermione no heed.

The house elf looked from Draco to Hermione. She sent a helpless shrug to Hermione, her beady eyes seeking apology as she turned her head back, her ears flopping, and resumed.

"Moxie stop," Hermione said firmly, her glare daring Draco to challenge her.

"Norman, feed me a grape." The house elf in the corner of the room scrambled to a stance, pricking a grape of its stem and ran over to Draco. But before he could place the grape into Draco's mouth from the hole beneath the massage table, Hermione stopped him. She took the grape from his hands silently, ignoring his squeaks of protest.

"What's taking so long Norman?" Draco said, irritated, still with his eyes closed.

Norman squeaked again. "Norman...um master..." he pointed to Hermione, not daring to rat her out, but not knowing what to say. Suddenly, he scrambled back to the corner and hid.

Hermione ignored him. "You want your grape?" she asked angrily.

Draco moaned again, his noise sending shivers down Hermione's spine. That man should be banned from moaning, damnit. "Yes that would be nice," he said, his voice raspy.

She took the grape in her hand, and pushed it into his face so that it splattered all over. "Well here!" Her voice shook as the shivers continued to run.

Draco sputtered, some juice getting into his nostrils. He took his hand and wiped the remnants off his face, before motioning for Moxie to stop. Slowly, he turned to lie on his back, revealing to Hermione the upper half of his body. Not that she hadn't caught glimpses before, but this was the first time she had seen his well defined body..so blatantly. She couldn't help but stare, her heart speeding up as lust built within her.

The feelings he invoked in her scared the hell out of her.

He enjoyed her reaction, but pretended to be oblivious. "So how was spew?" he asked. He even flexed for a moment, the git.

Her breath caught. She flushed red, which Draco found rather endearing. "F-fine," she stuttered. "Put a shirt on will you," she managed.

"Why?" he asked, stretching lazily. "Is it bothering you?"

She couldn't come up with an answer to that.

"P-please tell me you have pants under there," she asked, suddenly questioning what was under the blanket covering his lower half.

He smirked. "No..." he drawled out. Slowly, he peeled his blanket off. Hermione looked positively fluster, her face displaying an immense range of emotions.

"Only boxers."

She breathed out loudly, half relieved, and secretly, half disappointed. She hoped he didn't notice the latter.

"You didn't think I'd let you see it all did you?" He laughed at her.

She flushed even more.

Finally, she managed to tear her eyes away, and trained her eyes on Norman instead, huddling in the corner, cowering in fear of his master. "House elves aren't slaves." She changed the topic.

"No, they're servants."

"THEY ARE NOT! THEY ARE CREATURES ENSLAVED BY PRICKS LIKE YOU!"

"Next, you'll drone on about how they're poor misunderstood souls in the devastating harsh world right?"

"THEY ARE!" Hermione cried out. Norman winced.

"Well if that was the case," Draco paused," IF, then I wouldn't know would I?"

Hermione frowned and narrowed her eyes. "But I'm telling you right now—"

"Because I'm not in spew!" Draco continued, ignoring her. "Because the selfish, SEXIST, creator of the organization won't let men in. Now if I were in spew—"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE! S. P.E.W.!"

"—spew, then I would know about it all, and I wouldn't treat them like slaves." Draco smiled widely at her. "Norman," he yelled, still looking at Hermione pointedly, "where the hell is my grape?"

Hermione glared and stepped forwards. "Firstly," she began angrily, "Norman, don't get it for him. If he can't get his lazy butt to stand up and walk too steps for a grape, then he shouldn't eat one. He might get fat and dumped by his girlfriend. Wouldn't want that now would we?" she asked sarcastically. Draco's glare now matched her. "Secondly, I'm not sexist. Harry and Ron are in **S.P.E.W.!"**

"Real men Granger. I mean _real men_. Not pansies."

"How _dare _you?"

"How? Well..."

"You think you're so smart."

"I do rather pride myself in that. Yes." He grinned cockily. So much so that Hermione fought the urge the slap that smirk off his pretty face.

And if anyone were to walk in at that second, it would have been quite a scene, with Draco, half naked, smirking and Hermione, fully dressed, glaring while beet red.

"Moxie, Norman," Hermione said with such calmness that it even frightened Draco, "please leave." He didn't blame the house elves for deserting him, mere seconds after the request had been made.

"So now that the witnesses are gone, are you planning to kill me?" The moment the words left his lips, he cursed himself. He watched her wince, and for a moment, he saw the hurt in her eyes, before they hardened again. And it was at that very moment that he realized she wasn't immune. She wasn't as strong as she made him believe she was. But it was also a moment too late. He had never known she was having second thoughts. And whereas at one point she would have confided in him, it wasn't the case anymore. Just as he never knew his words would push her into making a decision.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," she said resignedly.

"What? Granger, what are you talking about?" He was worried.

"Why are you like this?" she asked, her voice hurt and weary.

Draco frowned. Angry Hermione he could deal with, vengeful Hermione he could deal with, but he couldn't bear to see her hurt. He found himself, for the first time that night, at a loss for words. His plan to anger her might have backfired.

"Even your mother cares about me. SHE cares. Your FATHER cares. But you...don't you get it?" Hermione trailed off, looking away.

"Hermione.."

"No. No. _No._" She held her hands up to her ears, shaking her head savagely. "I don't care about you! I DON'T!"

Draco stood, and grabbed her wrists firmly. "Stop."

She did. She looked up, her gaze connecting with his. "But I do care," she said simply. "That's the whole problem. _Why _do I even care?"

She waited for an answer, never expecting one. Hearing none, she smiled sadly, and pulled out of his shocked, slackened grip, and walked away.

* * *

Hermione never went back to the room that night. Draco, though he waited, never expected her to. She had probably found a random guest room to sleep in.

The next day, both avoided each other for different reasons. He avoided her because he knew.

She avoided him because she knew that he knew. He knew she cared. He knew she had feelings for him.

But the thing was, when two people avoid each other at the same time, the whole avoiding idea never really works. And so, it simply led to many awkward encounters, full of 'ums' and 'ahs'.

Narcissa finally had enough.

"Draco," she called, searching for her son. "Hermione, have you seen my son?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Yes, he was just in the attic." They had both decided that they wouldn't see one another in the attic. And of course, they ended up bumping into each other there.

"The attic?" Narcissa questioned.

"The attic," assured Hermione, before speeding off.

Narcissa watched the girl practically run off. "Right," she murmured, before heading to the attic.

"Draco?"

"Mother?" a voice whispered.

"Draco? Why are you whispering?"

"Is it safe to come out?"

Narcissa looked around. "Is there something bad out here?" she wondered aloud.

"No," Draco answered quietly.

"Are we playing hide and seek? Cause I do love that game." She clapped eagerly.

"No," he answered dully.

"Then I think it's safe."

Draco poked his head out from the attic door. "Are you sure?"

Narcissa nodded, raising her eyebrows. "Yes."

"I think I'd rather stay in here. Like they say, lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice."

Narcissa nodded again. "Wait, lightning?" She frowned. "Did lightning strike up there? What? Are you okay? Lightning! My heavens!"

Lightning was one way to put it. However, it was more of this shock that ran through his body every time he saw Hermione, and tension that filled the room when they were together. "In a way," he answered vaguely instead. "Did you need to speak with me?"

"Lightning son? Are you okay?" she repeated, worried. "How could lightning strike inside the manor?"

"You'd be surprised mother," he mumbled. "I'm fine mother," he sighed. "Come up if you need to talk with me."

* * *

"I know you and Hermione are having a disagreement."

Draco, startled, flew up from his lying position on the ground. Even the attic floors of the Malfoy manor were spotless.

"Did Hermione talk to you? What did she say?"

"Well, yes...she talked about it briefly." Narcissa watched her son's anxious expression. "She said it wasn't your fault," Narcissa added, suddenly remembering, hoping to please her son.

It did the opposite. His face fell. "Well, you obviously talked to her before last night then. We're talking about different things."

"Oh. But it's still just an argument right?" Narcissa asked hopefully.

Draco shrugged.

Narcissa sighed. She reached out, and patted Draco on the shoulder comfortingly. "As long as you love each other," she began, "everything will be fine."

That thought made Draco queasy. The problem was, he didn't _love _her, and he highly doubted that she _loved _him. Love was a big word.

Narcissa, however, took this the other way. "What do you love about her son?"

Draco knew that if he didn't answer his mother, she wouldn't leave. And more than anything, he just wanted to be alone and think of a way to handle the situation. So he found a way around it. He thought of Stephanie.

He took a deep breath. "I love her," he said simply.

His mother looked at him. She smiled softly. "Yes," she urged, "but what is it you love _about _her? Why do you love her?"

He frowned. "Well...I love...her?"

Narcissa frowned. "Why? What is it about her?"

Draco tried again. "I love..." He faltered. He couldn't think of anything. He looked up at his mother, who waited patiently. "I love...her smile," he said slowly. But that was Hermione, not Stephanie.

"I love...the way she's passionate about the things she cares about."

"Like S.P.E.W.," Narcissa murmured.

He nodded."Wait. What?"

"Nevermind, keep going."

"Okay then." Draco pondered. "I love that...she cares about people. Everything and everyone." He slowly lay back down on his back. "I love...the way she's so sure of herself. Oh, and the way that she always gives second chances, and forgives."

"And...I love the way she isn't afraid of me. I love when she yells at me, and tells me I'm wrong, or how stupid I am. And how she laughs. I love all the little things about her, like how she bites her bottom lip, and how her hair always falls loose so she has to push it back."

Narcissa smiled.

He remembered back to last night. "I love how she is when she's angry. I love how she's modest, so much so. I love it when she flushed red...it's rather..cute?"

Draco nodded to himself.

"I love how she's intelligent. And proud but not haughty. I love...everything about her."

Draco sat back up, and stared at his mother. "I love everything about her."

Then, he promptly fell back down. "Damn."

To say his mother was utterly confused, was a sorry understatement.


	22. Devilish

**Devilish**

The mid-afternoon sun was teasing its way through the small little window in the not-so-small-nor-humble attic of Malfoy Manor, spilling over Draco's flat body as he lay on the ground.

It was a nice day, and the sun's rays warmed the room rather nicely.

But that was not at all what Draco was thinking about. Not even close.

Rather, he was thinking about women. However—not in the way one would usually assume him to be thinking about women though. He was thinking something along the lines of such.

Women were conniving. Women were evil. Women, one could say, were conniving _and _evil.

There was no doubt about it. Draco shook his head solemnly. No doubt at all.

He opened his eyes from his position on the floor, where he had remained after his sudden, rather frightful, epiphany.

"You planned this all didn't you," he accused, pointing his finger at his mother.

"I planned what?"

He narrowed his eyes, and sat up, dusting the nonexistent dust off his back. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!" He huffed.

"I planned..." Narcissa tapped her index finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Oh!" she suddenly exclaimed, as if having an epiphany of her own. "You mean the whole hide and seek thing? Because I swear I didn't. But the attic's an awfully good place to hide, I have to admit."

"AHA!" Draco declared triumphantly. "Wait. NO! MOTHER!"

"What?"

Draco shook his head, and narrowed his eyes. "Oh I see. I see. Clever, conniving _and _evil now eh?"

Narcissa nodded adamantly. "That's precisely what men are!" she blurted. "Except clever," she added as an afterthought.

Draco threw his hands up in frustration. "WOMEN! I WAS TALKING ABOUT WOMEN!"

"Oh well, then we're definitely clever. And pretty." She clapped. "Right Draco deary? I'm pretty right? Lou says so."

"Yes mother," Draco droned robotically. He paused. "No! Don't change the subject! We were talking about you. And me. And love!"

"We were?" Narcissa couldn't help but scratch her head.

"Yes!" Draco groaned.

Narcissa leaned forwards with her two hands outstretched, and pinched Draco's two cheeks rather affectionately. Or in Draco's opinion, rather embarrassingly and painfully. "Well you know I love you honey."

"Not YOU!" Draco threw his hands up in the air once again. "Hermione!"

"Well, I'm sure Hermione loves you too. Maybe you should ask _her?_" Narcissa asked pleasantly.

"No she DOESN'T!" Draco blurted.

"But..."

"Don't lie mother."

"But..."

"And besides, I wasn't talking about _her_!"

"Oh dear! What are you saying Draco?" Narcissa, for once, looked on seriously.

_It was Stephanie. I was talking about Stephanie, _he chanted religiously in his mind. Never mind the fact that Stephanie didn't blush. Or that she wasn't too intelligent. Or modest. Or...damn.

Draco suddenly made a move to stand. "I see what you're trying to do. Conniving again? I don't think so." He shook his head, and began to exit. "Women are _so _confusing," he mumbled, as he left.

Narcissa, again, was left scrunching her forehead. "Women?" she scoffed. "Draco dear, you've got it all wrong."

* * *

_I love Steph. Steph. Steph. _

But he found that he couldn't quite picture her in his head anymore. And when did Steph have a mass of curly brown hair?

She didn't.

Draco froze in his steps.

That was Hermione.

And _that_ was also a problem.

Draco, at that moment, decided that he was going to take a walk. And hopefully never come back to deal with this mess. Because he really couldn't deal with this right now. She was Hermione Granger. She was...the third of the golden trio for lack of better words, and that in itself was enough. She was everything that was wrong for him. She was kind. She was honest. She was a Gryffindor. She was muggleborn. She wasn't rich. She was friends with Harry freaking Potter for god's sake. But yet in a way, she was...Hermione.

Hermione, the girl who made him laugh no matter what. The only girl who could ever put him in his place. Hermione, was Hermione. Cute. Adorable. Smart.

Yes he really did need to run away.

Besides, running away was his specialty.

_I love Steph. S. T. E. P. H._

But even _he _knew he was lying.

_He liked __her__. Or loved her. Either way...it was _her_ and not Steph._

"Och!" Draco coughed out, as something, or rather someone, ran into his chest around the corner.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," the person murmured, the voice oddly familiar.

He looked down. Eerily, at the exact same moment, she looked up.

"Oh, it's you," they said simultaneously. So much for Draco running away. So much for Hermione's avoiding. They both were apparently very bad at their respective tasks.

"Look, about last night, I didn't mean—"

"I don't like you," Draco blurted out, which was not at all what he was thinking, nor what he wanted to say. "Not like as in like but like like." Hermione stared. Draco sighed. "I like you. But not like as in like like."

"Like like like like?" Hermione attempted to joke, rather precariously.

"I don't love you." Which was not at all the truth either.

But the words had escaped. And that was that.

Hermione looked up, clearly stunned at the sudden confession. Then, she looked away, seemingly undeterred. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "As I was saying, about last night, I didn't really mean that I would back out. If you still want to continue the...charade," she paused, the words hitting close to home, "then I'll continue."

Draco didn't know what to say. Did she not hear him?

"Um. Thanks?"

Hermione nodded briefly. "Sure." She pushed her hair back, lifted her chin, brushed past him and walked off, leaving the tense air in her wake.

She sped forwards, each step heavier than the next. Until she turned the corner.

And that was when the steps became too heavy, too difficult. She stopped, and leaned against the adjacent wall, safe from view.

Draco. The git.

She had always dreamed she'd fall in love with the perfect guy. The nice, prince charming type. She blamed all her dreaming and her overactive imagination. That guy never did exist.

But it was hard not to believe or hope. I mean, when she was eleven, she learned that magic was real. And at eleven, no matter how rational minded you were, when you find that magic is real, what was to say that princesses and fairy tales were not.

She had always dreamed of the kind, funny handsome...and to be honest, rich, boy that would capture her heart, and give his in return.

There was no way in hell she could have imagined Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Devil's advocate. In all his blonde haired, blue eyes glory. No, she would never have imagined him. He was...the not-kind, cynical boy that she would have always imagined she would hate.

She did hate him.

But no one ever told her that you could hate someone, and love someone, at the exact same time.

Einstein had failed her. It was against the laws of physics! The nature of the world even!

She turned around, lightly hitting her head against the wall.

It didn't surprise her when he said he didn't, she gulped, love her. Because truly, it was not so surprising. Maybe, she had been a little disappointed. But she was not the fool to hope that he would suddenly come out and declare his unending, suppressed love for her. Okay, maybe she had been a little bit of that fool, but not much.

She was rational, logical, Hermione Granger after all. There was a basis to that claim.

And so it hurt a little bit. She would...regain her lost dignity. And forget all about him. She would. She _really _would.

"What are you _doing?"_ a voice asked from behind her. She slowly turned around.

"Um...not smacking my against the wall in a desperate urge to suppress my—"

Draco looked on weirdly, and smiled.

Oh she would definitely forget all about him, the moment he stopped smiling. Because damn, if she had never seen that smile, her heart would have never melted for him.

"Do you mind if I go out the day after?"

"Why?" He stuck his hands in his pocket, and rocked on his feet.

"Well actually," she began.

"No never mind," he smiled again, as if a smile would make all the awkward silences go away. For the love of god, in the past, he wouldn't smile to save his life. And now, he couldn't stop! He was definitely out to get her.

"Okay then." Hermione shrugged, half disappointed. She wanted to tell him that it was her birthday. Or it was going to be. But..

"You're going out with Pothead now right?"

"Harry," Hermione corrected automatically. "Actually, he backed out."

Draco hoped that she didn't expect him to offer. Because this in itself, this 2 minute conversation, was awkward enough. And his jaw was hurting from smiling so much. But smiles were good. Smiles were not awkward. Right?

In a way, Draco's hopes were answered. In another way, the devil was out to get him. "I'm actually going with.." Hermione mumbled.

"Who?"

"Blaise," she murmured again.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Blaise," she enunciated.

Draco's breath hitched. He faltered, before regaining composure. "Right, alright then." He briskly turned on his heel, keeping his sweltering anger in check. "Have fun then," he gritted out.

And for perhaps the first time in his life, he knew what that anger was. The J word.

* * *

The air smelled fresher than ever before. The sun brighter. The sky bluer. She was out of that house. She was out of the tension. The awkwardness. Hogsmeade village _never_ looked this beautiful before.

Blaise, with his easy-going, light-hearted manner, provided a pleasant diversion.

"La, la, la, la, la," Blaise hummed loudly, holding an invisible microphone in his hand as he shook his head from side to side wildly.

Hermione laughed. _Laughed. _She hadn't done that in a bit. Laughing, was perhaps Hermione's favourite thing in the world. "Blaise, either you're on drugs...or...you're on drugs."

Blaise sent her a dashing smile, that she supposed should have made her heart flutter, had her heart not so mutinously devoted itself to...—but she would not think about him.

"Oh! Or, have the Fred and George gotten a hold of you and decided to test a new product on you. Oh no, they did that to me once. What is it this time? The Singing-off-tune-to-break-Hermione's-ears powder? Or the Make-everyone-stare-weirdly-at-you-and-the-person-you're-walking-with potion?"

Blaise held a hand to his heart. "Ouch much? Maybe I'm just happy."

That, Hermione believed, had many meanings. Added with the undeniable look he was using, she was rather inclined to fake stupidity and ignorance at that moment.

He seemed to sense her discomfort, taking it all in stride. "So how's my good old friend been to you?"

Or maybe, she thought, he was _trying _to make her uncomfortable. "Fine."

"Doesn't seem so fine," he commented lightly, staring at her.

She looked at him. "When was it ever fine with _Malfoy?" _She said his name as she had said in the past—mocking the disgust she had once felt for the man.

"True. True. I remember when you punched him back in..what was it...3rd year?"

"Something like that yes," she answered vaguely, smiling at the memory.

"Oh don't pretend you can't remember it. It's probably one of your best memories of Hogwarts."

She smiled. "It _is _up there. Top 10 I could say."

"Aw now I'm jealous," Blaise teased, "Draco's in your top 10 and I'm not?"

And that tease would have been perfectly fine. If not for his damn eyes. Suddenly, maybe this outing wasn't so much of a relief after all.

"Oh, Honeydukes," exclaimed Hermione, inexpressibly relieved. She let out a breath. "I haven't been in there since 6th year. Let's go in!"

"Sweet tooth Hermione?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "If I say yes, will you buy me candy?" She skipped into the store...like a child in a candy store, as the saying goes. Except this time, it was rather literal.

And because she skipped in, she never heard Blaise murmured, "I would buy you anything." He shook his head. "If you only wanted it from me, and not _him."_

**_REVIEW. I WILL LOVE YOU. _**

**_AND. I'm sorry. I don't know how to email to...anonymous reviewers:S. BUT I THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEW ANYWYS_**


	23. The Bigger Fool

**FIRST SUMMATIVE DOWN.**

**I'm not sure when the next update will be. But June 6 is my last summative. So times will be regular after that.**

**REVIEW!**

* * *

**The Bigger Fool**

Hermione woke up that morning, unnaturally clear-minded and awake. All the signs were there. She did not desperately want to beat her alarm clock until it would shut up when it rang. Instead, she calmly clicked it off. She did not groan when the sun hit her eyes. Instead, she smiled. She did not angrily pull her hair out of her face the moment she sat up. Instead, she slowly tucked it away. Yes, all the signs were definitely there.

Today, the sun was going to shine brighter, the grass was going to be greener, the sky bluer. Today was _her_ day. Because isn't that what birthdays were about?

Today was going to be special. Perfect even. The world was going to look a little better than usual today. At least to her.

It was the unspoken rule that birthday girls always got what they wanted, and for the first time in her life, she prayed for it to be true. Maybe it was slightly hypocritical, to pray for something to happen when she barely believed in god. But today, she wouldn't think about it. Because today was today. Today was her birthday.

And she only had one wish.

To spend it with the people she cared about.

Her eyes wandered to the man lying beside her in bed. She shook her head bitterly and looked away.

_Today was _her_ day,_ she chanted to herself, _today was _her_ day. _She sure as hell wasn't going to spend it pining after him. She carefully slipped out of bed, trying her best not to wake Draco, although she sincerely doubted that he would wake up if he had a bucket of water poured over his head. He did not wake up until the sun was high in the sky.

_She would spend it with the people she cared about, _she told herself. She stepped onto the ground, her toes feeling the cool marble floor. It was funny, how only a few weeks ago, the things so foreign to her—like marble floors in a bedroom—were so familiar and comforting now.

When you get attached to things, things that will leave eventually, it gets harder and harder to let go.

She looked at Draco.

Yes, definitely hard to let go.

* * *

"Well, you're awake early this morning," commented Draco groggily as he wiped his eyes and stretched.

Hermione shrugged, tugging at her shirt. She looked at him through the mirror. "You're uncharacteristically up early too." She feigned nonchalance. But inside. Inside was a whole other story. Could he possibly know that today was her—

"No thanks to you," he teased, smiling, "I felt the bed shake when you got off."

"Oh." She tried to contain her disappointment.

Draco yawned. "I might as well get up now," he sighed, feeling the awkward air that had, for the past few days, slowly subsided since his epiphany.

"Aren't you going to ask what I'm dressed for?" Hermione couldn't help but ask.

Draco stopped and turned. She turned as well.

"I guess you're going out today?" He ran a hand through his hair. "You look good," he added sheepishly.

"Thanks," Hermione blushed. "And yes. With Harry for my—"

Draco held up his hand before she could continue. "I don't want you to think that you have to report everything with me. As I said a few days ago," Draco smiled, "it's not my business."

He frowned before adding. "Blaise isn't going right?"

Hermione couldn't hide her disappointment this time. He really didn't know. And he wouldn't. She walked away from the mirror, so that he couldn't see her crestfallen expression. "No," she murmured, "Blaise isn't going."

Draco didn't know why that pleased him so much. It shouldn't have. Nonetheless, he felt a grin creep onto his face. "Alright then." He headed to the washroom before Hermione interrupted.

"You know what," she said, turning towards him without looking directly at him, "I can go later a bit. Spend some time with you," she shrugged, smiling slightly.

"No, no, it's absolutely alright. I think I can last a day without you," he said, while running the tap.

Translated, to her: he could last without her.

"Do you even know what day it is today?" she asked quietly, thinking that he couldn't hear her.

Draco turned off the faucet. "The 24th," he called.

Hermione's shoulders sunk. "Yes," she replied. "The 24th. Nothing special." She paused. "I'm going for a walk, Draco. Then I'm going to go okay?" She half wished he would say no.

"Okay."

* * *

"You clearly do not know **anything**."

Draco looked up.

He looked up, and frowned. "I don't know anything?" he repeated, watching as the man stepped out of the flames and dusted off his robes. "What's that supposed to mean Blaise?"

Draco picked up his bookmark and slid it into place, softly closing his book before placing it on the table in front of him. He removed his feet from his desk in his study and planted them on the floor. "And why," he added, "are you in my house?"

Blaise shook his head, almost mockingly. He looked up and pursed his lips. "I don't honestly know," the man ground out. He looked heavenwards. "To be honest, I'm probably here ruining my life."

Draco was bewildered. What was the man going on about?

"And now, I'm being looked at weirdly by an _idiot._" He laughed, more so at himself. "What the hell am I doing?"

"Yes," Draco condescended. "What in god's name are you doing?"

But Blaise seemed to be lost in his own rant, ignoring Draco. "—because I have to be the fucking good guy. Because she's a fool. Because you're a fool. Because I'm a fool—"

"However much I like your pleasant company," Draco said sarcastically, "time is money." He nodded towards the clock.

Blaise pulled a chair, frustrated, across from Draco and took a seat. "Look, I'm just going to do it and get it over with. But I sincerely hope, for your own benefit, that you listen to me."

Draco lifted his eyebrow, but remained silent.

"What day is today?"

"The 24th."

"And?"

"And...?" Draco frowned.

"Today's a special day," Blaise blurt out finally.

"Is it?" Draco asked, searching his mind. "June 24th." No bells rung.

Blaise leaned back. "You really don't know," he marvelled. "You really don't."

"Know what?" Draco urged.

Blaise paused. If he said this, he was essentially pushing the girl he liked to another man. Could he do this? He stared for a moment, picturing what could be. Her. And Him. But not matter how he pictured it, she was never smiling the way she did with Draco. Pain swirled through him. Pain that he couldn't have her. It broke his heart.

He knew what he had to do.

"I'm giving you one chance Draco."

Draco leaned back as well now. "Let me get this straight, you're giving me a chance?"

"Yes."

"You know I like her."

He pretended to, in fact, not know. Because if he knew, it wouldn't be assumptions anymore. It would be real.

Blaise however, wouldn't let Draco stay in his blissful state of naivety.

"I like Hermione. It's real Draco. I know what you're thinking."

Draco swore under his breath, and Blaise couldn't help but laugh.

"But I know she likes you. That's pretty bloody real too Draco." Blaise continued, "the only thing I _don't _know is what you're thinking."

"I—"

"I don't really care either," Blaise said simply. "I just..I know she won't be happy with me. Not when she likes you. So I'm giving you a chance."

"Oh how _big_ of you," Draco scorned sarcastically.

He ignored him. "But I swear to god. If you hurt her, I'm going to fight for her. If you hurt her..."

Draco, by now, was getting slightly put off. "As much as I _adore_ all these confessionals, I really don't know what you're getting at," he snapped.

"Today. Today is her birthday."

Draco was speechless. He was frozen in shock. Her birthday?

"I'm not saying this to help you. Don't get me wrong. I'm saying this to help her."

Blaise ran a hand over his face. "Because god knows why, but I know she wants to spend this day with _you._"

Draco, still, was unmoving. Birthday? Guilt rolled over him.

"What are you still doing here?" Blaise asked impatiently. "I bloody go to your house, tell you it's her birthday, practically declare that I'm going to let you have her, and you sit here like a well...sitting duck."

Draco stood abruptly. Then froze again. He fell back down.

"What now?" asked Blaise.

"I don't have a present." Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't have a present!"

"I couldn't tell you how much I hate you right now. Not because she likes you. But because you're making me sound all sappy and soft. She wants you Draco. Not some diamond necklace or watch like what's-her-name-Stephanie wants. She wants you."

"What does that mean?"

"Figure it out. She has plans with Harry and Ron today."

"She's still here though. Taking a walk," he suddenly remembered.

"Then..." Blaise prodded, against his better judgement.

"I have to go." And without waiting for a response, Draco all but ran out the door. He paused at the doorway and looked back. "Um...thanks." And coming from Draco, that meant a lot. Blaise knew it too.

Blaise nodded once.

Bigger man, he scoffed. More like the bigger fool.

* * *

Draco was nearly out of his house when he came up with an idea. He turned around, and ran to the closest fireplace instead. He grabbed a handful of green powder from the ledge and threw it into the fire.

The things you do for a person.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he commanded.

And as he stepped out of the fireplace in the previous headquarters of the Order, he only had one thing to say to the two very surprised people with their mouths open, milk dripping out of their hovering spoons.

"You two _live_ together? Are you guys homosexuals? Honestly."

Harry and Ron couldn't say a word. Who could blame them? When Draco Malfoy appeared in your living room like _that._

And he appeared all right.

**is the pace of the story okay? I hope you guys arent too frustrated!:)**

**EDIT/ I do realize Hermione's birthday is in September. And originally, I was going to keep it there. Bu because they days in my story seemed to feel like only weeks, as compared to the months that I had planned, I had to move it up, lest there be one hell of a lot of filler**


	24. The Most MAGICAL Birthday Ever

**OK. Ok. So why am I updating so soon when I clearly have 6 summatives due this week? Well, because I can't go anywhere because I'm SICK:(**

**However. That is good for you. And this story.**

* * *

**The Most Marvelous-Amazing-Grand-Indescribable-Cherished-Astonishing-Lovely Birthday Ever (**_In other words, The Most M.A.G.I.C.A.L. Birthday Ever.)_

Hermione thoughtfully twirled a strand of long brown hair between her two fingers, dragging it down across her face as she nibbled at it lightly, before abruptly releasing it.

Draco's land was magnificent. That was the only word she could use to describe it. And it complimented well with her favourite time of the day—when the sun had just awoken.

She treaded through the moist grass, admiring the landscape as she did. She watched as one of the peacocks padded its way closer to her, the animal's tail flared open impressively. The sun bathed her skin, warming her up. The light, cool breeze whisked around her. She continued to twirl her hair.

Soon, she found herself under the shade of an old willow tree, with its string of leaves dangling over itself protectively. She took out her wand, and murmured a simple spell to dry off a patch of grass by the trunk of the tree, before sitting down.

She leaned back against the solid wood, her hands now fiddling with the grass around her. This was where she liked to think.

She was nineteen as of today.

Nineteen. An adult in the muggle world now.

But she didn't feel like an adult at all. If anything, she felt childish. She wondered if she would ever learn?

First, she pined over a boy for years. A boy, who she adamantly made out to be the "right" guy, when clearly, all the signs were there that he was anything but.

And what did she do about it? She took on a task to pretend to be someone's girlfriend when that someone clearly had a girlfriend of his own. It was confusing even as she said it. But of course, Hermione Granger never chose to do the simple thing. No, she did not. Instead, she chose to fall in love with said man. And she had the slightest inclination that his best friend had something for her too.

Complicated?

Previously, she had tried to convince herself that Draco was nothing more than a passing crush. An infatuation.

He had been her enemy for six years for pity's sake!

But she couldn't get over the fact that he was nothing as she thought he would be like. He wasn't completely arrogant. He wasn't mean. He was just like any other boy. Except more. Many things about him were a pleasant surprise to her.

Oh, Merlin.

She needed an alternative. She couldn't like Ron anymore. And she was glad for that. But she couldn't like Draco either. Clearly, he had a girlfriend. And clearly, he didn't care about her the same way she cared about him. He had made that pretty clear.

But before she could get carried away with her thoughts, she heard the familiar noise of flapping wings near her. She looked up, and sure enough, a white owl swooped down, landing beside her.

The animal nuzzled itself against her outstretched hand.

"What do you have for me Hedwig?" she cooed, untying the small parchment attached to the birds leg. "Did you have a hard time finding the manor?" she laughed.

The animal cocked its head to the side, and stared at her through his beady eyes.

Hermione untied the string and unrolled the parchment.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm sorry, but we, (as in Ron and I of course__) cannot come and get you today. The auror-training head has called another "emergency" practice. Ron is very angry here beside me. He's actually yelling at the man in our living room at the moment—the uh...auror-training head. Anyways, well, we just wanted to apologize. I knew you were looking forward to this. We'll make up for it tomorrow. I'm pretty sure we won't have any more "emergency" practices._

_Happy Birthday Hermione._

_Harry and a very red Ron._

Hermione bit her lip, fighting the disappointment weighing down on her heart. Logically, she knew that it wasn't their faults, but she couldn't help but feel some sort of resentment.

Their training had been demanding, but never before had they called an "emergency" meeting. It sounded a little weird to her anyways. Still, she knew her friends wouldn't purposely ditch her, although it felt that way somehow.

And it hit her. Today, she would be spending her birthday alone. Completely, and miserably alone.

"Hedwig, you'll spend the day with me won't you?" she sighed, running her fingers along the soft feathers of the animal. The owl cocked his head again, and hopped back, before taking off.

"Even the owl ditches me!" Hermione grumbled.

She sat there, absorbing the gentle sounds of nature. Or tried to. Before she got sick of it. The point of the fact was, she was alone, on her birthday.

She scowled at the paper in her hand and crumpled it into a ball, throwing it to the left of her as hard as she could.

"That could have hit me."

Hermione whipped her head around to see Draco staring at the small ball of paper lying harmlessly beside him. She stared at him, as if he would disappear.

"Pi—" she squeaked. Her hand flew to her throat. "Pity it didn't," she tried again, attempting to make it sound annoyed.

Draco smiled. "Aw, now that hurt." She didn't respond.

"Well?" He gestured grandly. "It's your turn to say something," he hissed.

"What are you doing here?" she croaked out.

"This isn't exactly how I planned it."

"Planned what?"

"SURPRISE!" Draco chirped suddenly.

Hermione simply continued to stare.

"Or not," he grumbled.

"I'm not surprised..." Hermione began slowly.

"So I can tell," Draco drawled.

"But I am thoroughly confused."

"Well today's your birthday," he said.

She gasped. "But...I thought you didn't know." She narrowed her eyes. "You _didn't_ know!"

"Oh I did," Draco lied smoothly, well accustomed to it, "I just pretended I didn't to surprise you."

Hermione trained her eyes on him, analysing his expression. It showed no nervousness. It was calm. Too calm. She stuck her finger at him accusingly. "You're lying."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"You are! Don't lie to me."

Draco frowned. "Okay. But it was because you never told me!" he defended. He held out a hand to assist her in getting up.

She took the hand. "I know," she murmured as she dusted herself off.

He didn't respond. Instead, he was staring intently at the strands of hair dangling around her face that had blown out of her ponytail by the breeze. Some fell over her eyes, and Draco couldn't resist the urge to lean forwards and brush it away.

She watched him, mesmerized, as his cold hand brushed against her warm skin. His musky cologne smell washed over her—surrounded her—suffocated her.

"Are you free today?" he asked quietly, his minty breath rolling over her.

She didn't trust her voice. She nodded.

"Good." And as if finally realizing the position they were in—the proximity they were to each other, he briskly turned away and began walking.

Hermione stood rooted to the spot.

He turned around back to face her, a few metres away. "By the way, happy birthday."

Hermione was still rooted to the spot.

* * *

Hermione should have known. She should have known.

It was universal knowledge.

One should never...ever...introduce a boy to a gun. Especially a boy in a man's body. That was asking for it.

Hermione shook as the vest weighing on her shoulders vibrated. "Would you _please_ stop?" she groaned. "We haven't even started!"

Draco's eyes glinted, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. She desperately tried not to though.

"But it's fun!" he defended, his finger furiously attacking the trigger button. All the surrounding kids, mostly from 12 to 16, glared at him as their vests vibrated as well. Draco smirked.

"This is embarrassing," Hermione murmured. She turned to the rest of the people staring. "I don't know him. I honestly don't."

"What're you going to do?" Draco laughed, grinning evilly at all the people. Hermione had half a mind to drag him out of the "debriefing" room any moment. That, or shoot him with her gun.

Someone beat her to it though.

The small eight year old beside her simply lifted her gun, struggling against the weight of the vest, and shot at Draco's blinking target patch.

He immediately stopped jumping up and down. "I thought I was invincible," he said sadly. Hermione smiled.

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her vest. She looked down.

The little girl motioned for her to lean down, and she did.

"Your boyfriend is weiiiiiirrrddddd," the girl dragged out, giving a look to Draco, who returned it with fervour.

"Oh." Hermione looked at Draco too. Smiling, she looked back at the girl. "He's not my boy—"

Suddenly, the door opened and the tunnel was revealed. In a matter of seconds, the room was empty. Only Hermione and Draco remained.

Hermione slowly lifted her gun up, a grin appearing on her face. "**Marvellous**," she whispered, "this will be fun."

Draco backed up. "What are you doing?"

"Doing? Me? With what?" she asked innocently.

"I don't know," Draco said, rolling his eyes, "with the gun?"

Hermione looked down at the large object in her hands. "This gun?"

Draco backed up further. "You don't want to do that! Hermione!"

"I'm pretty sure I _do _want to do this."

"We could team up!"

"All is fair in love and war," she shrugged. This was definitely both. And with that, she shot.

"HEY!"

She smiled cheekily back at him. "See you later." She headed down the tunnel, with Draco desperately pressing the trigger, aiming at her.

"It's not working!"

Hermione turned around, and aimed her gun again. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

"It works now!" she heard Draco cry.

She shot again.

Oh yes, marvellous.

* * *

"NO!" Draco cried, watching as the statistics of the previous game of laser tag show up on the monitor.

Pink bunny was _ahead_ of hot ferret! She placed higher than him!

"No. No. NO! It's not possible."

"Believe it buddy."

"NO!" Draco shook his head fervently.

"Aw, is Draco in denial?" Hermione laughed.

"Don't be so happy," Draco glared, "you're second last on the whole list!"

"As long as I beat you," Hermione sang. "And if I'm second last then you're...LAST!"

Draco shook his head. "This is shameful."

He looked towards Hermione. Then, they both looked towards the counter.

"Another game?"

"Oh it's on."

"You're **amazing**," he murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing."

* * *

Hermione stepped out onto the sidewalk, into the beating heat of the sun. She pulled her sunglasses on.

"You look like a fly," Draco laughed, the moment he turned towards her.

Hermione scowled. "You look like Draco. And that's bad enough." Nevertheless, she pulled off her sunglasses and placed them at the top of her head.

"Oh my god, it's a mosquito!" Draco pointed at a girl far away, with similar oversized sunglasses. He burst out laughing.

"Oh, ha, ha. Real mature Draco," Hermione said, fighting the tug at her lips.

"Fine, fine," he gasped for breath. She watched as his eyes trained on her sunglasses. She calmly took them off, predicting his plan, and stuck them into her purse.

"I don't think so."

"Damn." He crossed his arms. "Where do you want to go now birthday girl?"

Hermione pondered. Draco's stomach growled loudly, and both of them stared at it for a moment. He smiled sheepishly. "Well, I guess...lunch would be a good idea," she said slowly.

Draco brightened. "Or maybe not yet," Hermione continued.

Draco scowled.

Hermione laughed and took his hand, an unconscious move. She pulled him forwards, sighting a sign from the distance.

"Oh my god, not again!" cried Draco, his hands held up protectively around his face. "We CAN'T go in there again!" He glared at the white letters. "Walmart." He shook his head.

Hermione burst into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny! It was a scarring experience! All thanks to you!"

Hermione laughed harder.

"I was harassed! Touched in uncomfortable places in there!"

Now, Hermione had to sit down on the curb for fear of falling over.

Minutes later, she finally regained breath. "Don't worry," she gasped out, "it's not usually like that."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I don't trust you." He shook his head.

"We're not even going there. We're going to the place right beside it. Where the big M is? I haven't eaten McDonald's since I was 12."

"What's McDonald's?"

"The **grandest**_**, **_most beautiful restaurant in the world."

Draco sighed, relieved. "Sounds good."

They walked into the restaurant. It didn't look very grand at all.

"Hermione, are you sure we're in the right place?"

Hermione looked around. The big M, the various kids, the smell of fast food. "Yes."

It was her turn to order now, and she stepped up to the counter.

Moments later, they headed towards a table with two trays in their hands.

"I can squeeze oil out of this." Draco stared intently at the pool of oil coming out of his french fry. "Clearly that is not good."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. She took his hand in hers and fed the fry to herself. "That's what makes it good."

"How are you not fat?" He asked, using two fingers to carefully pick up another fry. He stared at it, disgusted.

"I think that's a compliment," she said after she swallowed. He was still staring at the fry. She rolled her eyes, and took the fry from his hand, dipped it in ketchup and told him to open his mouth.

"No way," he said at once. "I'm going to die if I eat that."

"No you aren't. Everyone's eating it."

Draco shook his head. "I'm a trendsetter," he said, "I don't do what everyone doe—mmpf mmpf."

Hermione had stuck the fry in his mouth as he ranted on. She waited for him to finish, and watched as his expression changed.

He grabbed the box of fries. "It's mine now!"

Hermione stole it back. "I thought it was going to kill you."

"The taste. The taste...is..."

"**Indescribable**?" Hermione finished for him.

"Yes, exactly."

"You think we should pack some for your dad?"

"It's MINE!"

"Oh god, what have I done?"

Draco shrugged, but kept eating.

"Psst Draco," Hermione whispered. He looked up. "If you eat too much, you'll lose your hot body."

Draco immediately stopped. But not because of what Hermione thought it was because of.

He stopped, because Hermione said he was hot. And the feeling of hearing that? It was truly indescribable.

That meant she was, at least physically, attracted to him right? Right?

* * *

"This looks like a Walmart for food."

That was Draco's one and only comment.

"It sort of is."

That was Hermione's reply.

"It's called a supermarket."

"Not a foodmart? Come to think of it...walmart doesn't sell...walls does it?"

"I wish it did."

"Me too," Draco commented, "me too. Why are you buying food on your birthday again?"

"We're going to cook dinner."

Draco hoped he heard that wrong. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, you heard me," Hermione said, looking through the pile of tomatoes, "we."

"We, as in two people."

"We, as in two people, as in you and me."

"As in...me too?" Draco gulped. "This is some sadistic joke right?"

Hermione pondered. She selected three ripe tomatoes. "Nope."

She turned around. "Hey Draco, can you go find the spaghetti."

Draco, with his pride, did not want to admit that he did not know how to find the spaghetti. Instead he nodded. "Yes madam! Birthday girl!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but went on to the vegetables section.

Draco turned the other way and scanned the intimidating aisles. There were a lot. This place was big.

He needed to think. Spaghetti was pasta. Pasta was a carb. So was bread. And bread came from a bakery.

Draco was a genius.

And of course, in flashing big letters in front of him, stood the word: bakery.

Jackpot.

He wheeled the cart over and looked through the area. "Excuse me sir," he asked the staff, "where is the spaghetti here?"

"Did you say spaghetti?"

"Yes. The bakery sells spaghetti right?"

The man looked positively shocked. "Um...well...no."

"No?" Draco was astonished. "Well, where will I find the spaghetti then! My girlfriend—" he paused, "my friend wants spaghetti!"

"It's okay sir. It's okay." The man attempted to calm Draco down. "The spaghetti is this way. Let me take you there."

"Oh."

The man led a disbelieving Draco over to one of the aisles and then proceeded to hand him a package. "Here you are sir."

"This," Draco lifted the package, "is clearly not spaghetti."

"But...it is."

"Spaghetti is not hard!"

"It is also not cooked yet."

"This isn't spaghetti!" Draco repeated.

"Look at the cover," the man drawled.

Draco did. "Spaghetti," he read. "Oh."

"Yes, is there anything else sir. Perhaps you will need more help."

"No, it's ok. Thank you very much. You sure know your spaghetti." Draco smiled tightly.

"Yes well ...yes." The man awkwardly left.

Draco would never know that Hermione had watched the whole experience, fearing that he did not know where to find the spaghetti. It was perhaps one of her most **cherished **experiences of her day.

"So how was finding the spaghetti?"

"Easy."

"Want to find the onions?"

"Let's not."

"What was that about muggles again?"

"They're awesome. They can find spaghetti."

"That's what I thought." Hermione smiled with Draco.

* * *

"Attention!"

The clitter clatter of the kitchens abruptly stopped. About twelve pairs of eyes turned towards Draco and Hermione.

Draco cleared his throat. "So today is Miss's birthday—"

"Happy Birthday to Miss. Happy Birthday to Miss. Happy Birthday to Miissssss. Happy Birthday to Miss," the house elves all chorused at once immediately. Hermione blushed.

"Um..thank you. Very much."

Draco cleared his throat again, demanding undivided attention. "And we would like to use the kitchen alone today. Is that alright?"

The house elves all turned to their head, who nodded briefly. "Yes master Draco."

And with twelve loud pops, only the two remained in the kitchen.

"Hey Draco," Hermione spoke out, as they unloaded the bags.

"Hm?"

Hermione took out the broccoli. "Thanks."

Draco smiled as he grabbed the bag of pasta. "Not a problem."

Hermione smiled as well.

"Hey Hermione," he mimicked.

"Yes?"

"What's a birthday without a cake?" he asked seriously, turning to her.

She frowned. "Not a birthday at all I suppose."

"Clearly," Draco said, as he pulled out a bag of flour from behind his back.

* * *

"Lightly tap!" Hermione screeched into his ear. Draco was in the process of trying to crack an egg—and failing miserably.

"I would! If you stopped yelling in my ear!"

"I would stop yelling. But this is the sixth egg you've messed up! How hard is it?"

"Ok, let's try this again."

Hermione sighed, pushing her hair back. "Let me do this."

"No, I want to bake you a cake."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hope you have an endless supply of eggs then. Okay, lightly tap. Tap. Tap. That's good. Now pull the two parts apart."

Slowly, he did so.

"DON'T SQUEEZE!" Hermione shrieked. Draco automatically flinched, crushing the shell in his hand as the pieces fell into the egg.

"DON'T YELL!" Draco replied. "Ok, again."

He went to the fridge, and took out an egg. But along with that, he also took out his wand. "Silencio," he murmured, casting a spell on Hermione. Smiling serenely, he pocketed his wand again and took the egg out.

He tapped her head with his egg covered fingers. "Testing. Testing."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came up. She furiously tried again, while Draco laughed.

"Perfect. Okay, tap. Tap. Tap. Open and...WHAT THE HELL?"

Draco shook his head, as flour covered his hair. He coughed, as the dust raised. Hermione smirked triumphantly. She pointed at her throat.

He reversed the spell.

And then proceeded to scoop some flour up off the counter and throw it at her. She shrieked. "Draco!"

"Hermione!" he copied her, flailing his arms out.

Hermione picked up the bowl of egg and flour mixed together and advanced towards Draco. "Are you sure you want to do that Draco?"

He picked up a tomato. "Tomato stains don't come out Hermione."

She wrinkled her nose. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Hermione advanced closer. Draco didn't back away.

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned onto her tiptoes, flinging the liquid item in the bowl at the boy.

He wiped his hand across his splattered face, and drew the slippery substance across her cheek. The tomato plummeted to the ground as his other hand went behind her back and pulled her towards him, tight against his body.

"Draco, you're all wet," she squirmed, not yet realizing the proximity.

"Who's fault is that?" he asked in a whisper in her ear. The soft breath tingled her sensitive skin. She stopped squirming.

Slowly, he backed her up against the counter, lifting her up by the waist onto the surface so that now she was taller than him.

He kept one hand on her waist as the other reached for her jaw, pulling her closer to him. He brushed away the white strands of hair, tucking it gently behind her ear.

Hesitantly, she placed her hands on the two sides of his face, sweeping away the messy substance on his face.

He allowed her to explore his features, sensing that she needed to do so to feel comfortable. She gently ran her hands over the contours of his face.

Abruptly, it was all too much. He returned his hand to her jaw and pulled her downwards, and she complied easily. He watched her, as her eyes captured his. Her beautiful brown eyes, full of care and compassion took over him. He watched as she neared him, watched as their faces came closer to one another, watched as her long flour dusted eyelashes fluttered to a close finally.

He leaned in, and captured her soft pink lips with his own. His hand slipped from her jaw to ensure she was doing this on her own will. She was. Both his hands were at her waist now, and he longed to roam further. He longed to run his fingers through her hair, to explore _her_ face, explore her.

Carefully, he applied more pressure. Hermione wrestled her own longing as well. She fought to stay under control. The kiss turned from feathery to passionate in moments.

And just then, the pot screamed its protest as the steam and water spilled over. Hermione's eyes flew open, surprised and Draco backed up, pulling away.

Draco and Hermione stared at each other, then at the pot with spaghetti. Both were equally as **astonished. **

"Shit."

* * *

That night, they had a feast.

In their slightly smelly, white and yellow and partially red clothes, Draco and Hermione shared cold plain spaghetti for dinner. They got some pumpkin juice from the kitchen for drinks. Additionally, they found a few cookies in the kitchen, stuck a candle to one magically, and had their cake.

"Make your wish," Draco whispered, as he lifted the cookie up carefully, "and blow out your candle."

Hermione nodded.

_I wish that I could spend all my birthdays with you, I wish that all of them were as __**lovely **__as this one was._

She blew.

"Thank you," Hermione said once that was over, leaning against Draco's shoulder. Her eyes were barely open.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered, picking up a cookie.

"It really was a happy birthday. It was al-almost magical." She yawned, and rested her head back on his shoulder.

Draco embraced the silence as he nibbled on his cookie. His arm found its way around her shoulders. He looked down at her, and found Hermione asleep.

"Scourgify," he whispered. He lifted her easily into his arms and carrying her up the stairs and into their room. He placed her on the bed, and pulled the blanket up to cover her body, before stripping his own clothes off and climbing into bed.

She snuggled against him unconsciously.

He rested his hand on her waist as he pulled her closer.

"Good night, birthday girl."

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	25. Monumental

**I'm so excited that 2 chappies ago, the story hit 800! And maybe. Possibly. After this chapter...we could hit...say I don't know...900?:) That was shameless. I know. But I'm really hoping this story will hit 1200 by the end. It's my goal!:) Shameless again. Damnit.**

**But for all the reviews so far! It's been exciting. Here is the next chapter.**

* * *

**Monumental**

Time flew by rather easily in the Malfoy household. It passed by rather normally, one could say. Or as normal as it could be.

The day after Hermione's birthday, Narcissa and Lucius had told her they hoped she had had a good time and apologized for not being able to celebrate it with her. Actually, it was only Narcissa who said that, but Lucius was present at the time. It was _also_ Narcissa who had winked rather conspicuously as she said the words "good time". Hermione didn't even want to think about what the implications of that wink entailed.

Hermione, over the past few days, had immersed herself into her role—being the most obnoxious girlfriend she could be, with mixed results. Oh, she was pissing off a member of the family alright, but not the designated two—only Draco most of the time, who bore it with a grin. She had convinced herself to be happy, trying her best to thoroughly ignore her growing feelings for the boy. She took his lead in pretending the kiss had never happened, although she had desperately wanted to talk about it.

What did it mean? Why did he do it? What about Stephanie? Where was it going?

Draco, on the other hand, was torn between two things. Hermione? Or Stephanie?

Clearly, he had feelings for Hermione. He didn't deny that anymore. But Stephanie. Could he leave her? Could he truly?

But Hermione was Hermione. Hermione was there. Hermione was there smiling brilliantly at him as his mother and father laughed tearfully at something she had said.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, Hermione just said the funniest thing son!" Lucius wiped the corner of his eyes, and wrapped his arm around his wife's waist. "Isn't that right Cissy?"

Hermione turned towards him and flashed a small smile, before returning to what she had been saying to his parents.

He smiled back, but he wasn't sure if she caught it at all.

_"Honey," he called, as he climbed the steps of a small house. His hand trailed against the railing. "Hello?"_

_"In here!" a voice returned, muffled by the distance and the walls._

_The wooden floorboards creaked as his weight fell upon them. He strode towards the sounds. "Hello?"_

_He walked in to find the woman, knees on the ground, belly nearly touching the floor as she struggled to look for something._

_"What are you doing?" he scolded, rushing forwards._

_She waved him off with her hand without changing her position, her other hand still feeling the ground._

_"Get up right this instance," he commanded, his tone not nearly as harsh as he would have hoped._

_"I can't," she complained, finally looking up at him. Her bottom lip quivered as her eyes washed over with a layer of shine. "I can't find those earrings you gave me!"_

_Draco shook his head and sighed, grasping the woman by the arm and gently easing her up._

_"Are you m-mad at me?" she whimpered, her quiver pronouncing._

_He shook his head yet again. Hormonal. Definitely the one downside of pregnancy. But after 6 months, he was rather accustomed to it now. He reached forwards, struggling to wrap his arms around her, wondering when the space between them had _grown_ so much._

_She seemed to realize this too, as she stomped her feet on the ground. "Oh, I'm fat! Of course you're mad at me. I'm F-A-T! Fat!" she screamed._

_This was _not _the first time they were having this one sided argument, and Draco doubted it would be the last. It was better this time he supposed, as she wasn't blaming him for _making _her fat at least. Pregnant, he meant. Not fat. Not fat._

_He gently tucked his arm beneath her perfectly coiled hair and around the base of her head, easing her head onto his shoulder to muffle her cries. He kissed the top of her head affectionately._

_"I could never be mad at you," he soothed, kissing her again, "and you're not fat. You're pregnant. P-R-E-G—"_

_"Don't patronize me Draco Malfoy! I know I'm pregnant. No thanks to you!" She looked up, her eyes flashing as her hands curled into fists. He anticipated it, bracing himself. Then, as predicted, she threw feeble fists at his chest, crying, "you made me fat! How dare you?"_

_He used one hand to grab both her wrists, and the same hand to pull her again closer to him. This time, he swirled her around so that he could press up right against her back, her body fitting perfectly with his. _

_"Shh," he whispered, tucking his head into the nook between her head and shoulder. "Shh," he whispered again. He let go of her wrists as she stopped struggling. He used one hand to brace her waist, and the other to carefully stroke her stomach, containing her baby. Their baby._

_Eventually, she leaned her head against his, her own small hands covering both of his._

_"I think it'll be a boy," she whispered, as he placed a small kiss on her neck. She craned the other way to give him room to do so._

_"Why a boy?" he asked, in between kisses._

_"I don't know. I can just feel it," she answered, as his kisses moved upwards. "A boy with brown hair, and lovely blue eyes like your own. With just a tint of gray."_

_He kissed her cheeks. "But I like your brown eyes," he whined._

_"But they're a Malfoy trait," she answered contently, "and the little boy will be a Malfoy."_

_Draco nodded, kissing her one last time. "Good point. So, are you ready for the charity ball tonight Mrs. Malfoy?"_

_He felt the slight hesitation in her."But I don't look good like this Draco," she complained._

_With his arms still wrapped tightly around her, he straddled them over towards the full length mirror nearby. "See that?" he said, pointing into the reflection, "That's the most beautiful woman that will be at the ball tonight."_

_She stared, more so at him._

_"But I don't have the earrings. They go perfectly with the necklace that you gave me," she said, her hands automatically reaching for the choker adorned with jewels around her neck._

_She watched as he brought his first out and opened it. Inside, lay two earrings, both dangling with small brilliant rubies. "Where'd you find them?" she gasped, her hand reaching for one immediately._

_"You told me to keep them safe so you wouldn't lose them before the ball the other night, remember?" he chuckled, helping her wear the other one._

_They smiled at the reflection, before Hermione frowned slightly._

_"What's wrong now?" he asked._

_"I just...tonight...I know it's your mother's ball..."_

_"That she specifically asked us to attend?" he asked._

_She nervously twirled a few strands of hair. "Yes..." she began slowly._

_"That we can skip if you don't feel like going?" Draco offered with a smile. He slowly walked towards their bed and pulled up their single blanket. "Moxie makes a mean in-bed dinner."_

_"Yeah?" She asked, approaching the bed._

_"Yeah," he replied. He turned around, preparing to call the house elf when her voice interrupted him._

_"Draco?"_

_"Draco?"_

_He turned around. _

"Draco?"

Draco shook his head to clear his thoughts to see Hermione's hand rested on his knee, shaking it slightly.

"Where were you?" she chuckled, removing her hand.

The spot suddenly felt cold.

"Just...dozed off for a moment," he answered smoothly, looking around to see his parents getting up. "Daydreaming I suppose," he said to her before addressing his parents, "where are you guys going?"

"We must prepare for a charity ball tonight," Lucius replied, less formally than usual. "Your mother is going to be the—"

"Let's not go into that now Lou," Narcissa said, blushing prettily. As Draco looked up, he caught sight of the beautiful ruby earrings dangling off her ears. The sight was eerily frightening.

Narcissa caught Draco's stare. She self-consciously touched the jewels.

"I've never seen those before," Draco commented, tearing his gaze away as his mind raced.

"Oh yes," Narcissa said, thumbing the rubies. "They're a family heirloom, passed on to the Malfoy brides," she explained. "I rarely wear them, in fear of them getting lost."

"But they're red," Draco couldn't help but comment.

"Ironic isn't it," Naricssa said lightly, looking at Hermione, who didn't notice. However, Draco did, and he gulped nervously. Earrings? Charity ball? It would be scary if his parents suddenly announced that he was going to be a brother soon too.

Oh god, he didn't even want to consider that.

"Draco," Lucius suddenly said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Draco gulped. NO!

"Draco, I would like to speak with you."

This was not looking good.

By now, all members of the room were looking towards Lucius. "Privately," he clarified, looking rather awkward as he loosened his robe slightly.

Hermione coloured. "Oh, well I was just uh...library...uh...I'm going now," she muttered, hurriedly standing up. She shuffled out of the room quickly, not looking behind.

Everyone watched her leave.

Then Lucius turned to Narcissa. "You go get ready first," he said gently, "I'll be right up."

Narcissa looked worried, but didn't comment as she, too, proceeded out of the room.

Finally, the doors to the living room, or parlour if you may, slammed shut.

After moments of awkward standing, Lucius gestured to the couch opposite the one behind him. Draco took a seat, as did his father.

Silence ensued once again.

Eventually, the tension was too much. Draco broke in tentatively. "So...," he ventured.

"So..." Lucius mimicked, looking out one of the large windows facing the front of the house.

"Weather's great," Draco commented, frowning.

"Yes, yes it is."

"Sun's out," he continued.

"No rain," Lucius agreed.

"No clouds—"

"Don't lose her."

Draco froze midsentence. Did he just hear correctly?

"Don't lose her," Lucius said quietly. "I want you to keep her."

Draco opened his mouth to speak. To say something. Anything. But nothing came out.

Lucius finally turned to Draco.

"Don't lose her," he said simply, in a very Lucius-like manner. "Because _I_ don't _want_ you to lose her."

Draco couldn't close his mouth.

"I've always wanted a daughter too. Son, promise me, you'll keep her."

Draco blinked.

"Draco."

"What?" he finally managed to croak out.

"Don't lose her," his father said simply, before sweeping off the couch and striding towards the door, his cloak trailing behind. Right before leaving, he turned around, "I mean it."

Draco stood to leave as well.

And then, Lucius swept out of the room.

"Ye—" Draco began, more to himself, before the front doors swung open.

Damn. And double damn.

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	26. On the Doorstep

**YAY! THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS.**

**Soooo, as a thank you, I'm going to reply to every single question that has been submitted (before I started this chappie at least) briefly. (unless doubled)**

Konciawa(and all others who guessed this): You'll see who it is! (how redundant)

TheCrescentMoonWriter: It took me a while to understand what you said...but...I think you covered two opposites in there. So its no and yes? LOL. I don't really know. But I did try to trick you guys to think it was Steph. Or Ron.

Volleyballchick: Often, pregnant women like to think they are fat. When really, its just a big babby THING growing in their stomach. Well, so I see/read anyways. I, however, had not had that experience for I am 15. And not pregnant. LOL

Karen: I don't know what happened to Bob. Maybe he'll have a second appearance later. Ill try. Good old Bob**.**

* * *

**On the Doorstep**

And the doors flew open.

Lucius froze mid-step in the foyer, turning towards the intruder. His son was only mere steps behind him.

"Harry bloody Potter." Lucius tapped his walking stick on the ground loudly.

"Lovely to see you too!" Harry exclaimed, his arms wide open.

"Why is Harry Potter in _my_ house?" demanded Lucius, bubbling with anger.

Nobody dared to answer him...that, and nobody but Draco was in the vicinity.

"I said," Lucius shouted, stomping his stick. "Why is Harry Potter in my house?"

Hermione chose that precise moment to hurry down the stairs, hearing the commotion at the front. "Oh," she faltered, her steps slowing down as she neared the bottom. Behind Lucius, Draco was desperately shaking his head. She frowned, unable to decipher what he was trying to say.

Draco pointed to Harry. Then shook his head. _Don't say anything!_

"Harry...he's my..friend," she tried. She bit her lip as Draco furiously shaked his head faster.

Lucius turned around, ignoring the man at the entrance. "Of course...the golden trio. You _had _to choose the girl that was bloody _best friends _with _Harry Potter_!"

"Father—"

"What am I going to do with you son?"

"Does that mean...you disapprove?" Draco hesitantly asked in a hushed tone. Suprisingly, he feared that his father would say yes.

"No! It means that I might have to live the rest of my life with Harry Potter trampezing around my house! And you are to blame!" Lucius pushed his long hair back, and glared briefly at Harry. "Bloody hell!" He yelled, storming up the stairs, pushing past Hermione in the process.

She stumbled the last two steps forwards, and manoeuvred her way towards Draco. "Well...that was something," she began uncertainly. "What did he say to you?"

Draco looked away from her. "Nothing," he lied. "Nothing of importance."

Hermione didn't push it. She took his hand and pulled him towards Harry.

"Does he not like me or something?" the man asked, running a hand through his dark hair, rather bewildered. "Because I don't know...you know..he just seems—"

"Oh no, he definitely loves you Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just the way he loves me."

Hermione didn't know the half of it. Draco, however, gulped. The plan? The plan was officially one hundred percent down the drain.

"What are you doing here?" he heard Hermione ask her friend.

What in the name of god was Draco supposed to do now?

"I thought I'd spend the day with you," Harry responded, oblivious to Draco's troubled thoughts.

Hermione nodded happily. "Draco," she called, smiling towards him, "would you like to come?"

_No, _his mind told him. _No, you don't need to spend the day with Harry Potter. No, you need to figure this out. You need to talk to Blaise, not that he'd talk to you. You need to talk to Steph. You need to—_

"Yes."

* * *

The cobblestone path of the small wizarding village that they had chosen to go to seemed to run on and on and on, endless against the horizon. The street was lined with houses and shops—small and homely. Something that reminded Hermione of the small community she used to live in. She smiled and swung her arms while walking beside Harry, with Draco on her other side.

The village, or more accurately, small town centre was by no means lacking of visitors. Although not as busy as Diagon Alley, the streets were still lined with people, flowing in and out of the specialty shops all throughout.

Hermione had never been here before, and she revelled in the fact that Draco knew about this place. Apparently, he had an old acquaintance that owned a shop here.

"Oh lord, Hermione, remember the time in first year? The troll?"

"You and Ron," she scolded teasingly, shaking her head. Draco looked on curiously.

"Hey, it was you that ran into that washroom crying first!" he defended. "Besides, it was fun."

"FUN?" Hermione scoffed.

"Oh, oh and remember third year?"

Hermione frowned. "Which part?"

"You know," Harry hinted, nudging his head towards Draco lightly. "Yeah?"

Hermione frowned, turning her head to the side to face where Harry had been hinting at. While doing so, her foot caught on the uneven surface of the ground and she stumbled forwards, bracing herself for the fall.

Draco and Harry both instinctively reached forwards to grab her, one on either arm.

She blushed as the propped her upright, although Draco didn't release his hold on her as Harry did.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, not allowing Harry to hear. He didn't feel comfortable.

She nodded shyly. Harry took it as if she was nodding to knowing what he was saying.

"Yeah, bloody good punch you throw!"

Oh, _that _was what he was talking about.

"Harry, shut up," she said in a hushed town, glancing at Draco uncertainly.

"About that," she began.

"I deserved it," he said, smiling at her. "And you're right Potter," he continued on, still looking at Hermione, "she does throw a good punch."

Hermione feverishly shook her head. Inside, she was glad Draco was making an attempt to talk to Harry. All day, they hadn't spoken a word to each other, and it was getting slightly tiring talking to two people at once, while trying to ensure neither was left out.

She wanted them to be friends. If Draco could be kind to her, she hardly understood why he couldn't be kind to Harry as well.

She tried to think of a common topic for the three of them to talk about.

"Remember the Yule ball," she tried. That was at least something that all three of them had participated in.

"Boring," Draco commented.

"It was great!" Harry exclaimed at the same time.

They both hushed up.

Hermione coughed awkwardly. Or maybe not, she thought.

Draco knew what she was trying to do. It wasn't hard to figure out. But he also knew it was rather useless. Whatever topic Harry would find interesting, Draco would surely find boring.

"How about those N.E.W.T.s eh?" she chuckled nervously.

Both Harry and Draco gave her a pointed look, blatantly saying, _are you serious?_

Draco cleared his throat. There was _one _topic that was universal. "Quirk's Quidditch is just around the corner. They always have the latest brooms before the come to Diagon Alley and other stores."

He looked to the side, away from the two, although he could _feel _Hermione's grin. He tried to resist the smile creeping on his face. "Would you like to accompany me Pothea—er," he cleared his throat, "Potter."

Hermione nodded furiously towards Harry, her eyes pleading him to accept. Harry sighed silently.

"Sure..Malfoy."

It was an unspoken compromise. "You, Hermione?" Draco asked.

And for the first time _ever_, she went into a Quidditch shop with a smile on her face—not being dragged or pushed.

"Right Potter," Draco said as he took a sip out of his drink, "as if the Cannons would win this year."

"You don't believe it? They have Marlowe. He's the best keeper in the league."

Hermione sipped her own drink pleasantly, watching the exchange.

"So what if they have Marlowe. They have no offense. No one can score."

"No, they're going to win."

"They aren't."

"They are."

"They aren't."

"They are."

"Fancy a wager?"

Harry hesitated. "Hermione," he said, turning to the girl, "you won't tell Ginny would you?" He looked sheepish.

"Horsewhipped," Draco mouthed to Hermione.

"DRACO MALFOY," she scolded, frown lines deepening. She turned to Harry. "Don't wager with him. He probably cheats."

"I resent that!" Draco defended lightly.

Harry marvelled at the difference in the man. Throughout the whole day, he had never truly been rude. With the exception of a few snide comments.

He had laughed. He had smiled. He had teased.

Sometimes, Harry decided, Draco and Hermione seemed to have their own little secrets. He frowned. Draco wasn't a bad guy, no...but...

"Hermione, can I talk to you for a second?"

Both Hermione and Draco looked up from their separate conversation. Hermione looked at Draco, who rose graciously. "I was just going to the men's room."

Harry nodded.

Once he was out of earshot, he began. "Hermione, are you...falling for him?"

Hermione faltered. Harry chose to interpret it correctly.

"Hermione," he admonished.

She shook her head, and stared at her hands.

"Hermione, are you..or are you not...falling for him?"

"He's a good guy Harry," she managed.

"I'm not saying he's a bad guy."

Neither noticed Draco's return. He hovered nearby, hoping to give them some more time to talk. He never planned to listen in on their conversation. But sometimes, things just happen. Like how he happened to hear.

"Yes," she said finally.

Harry gulped. "Yes what?"

"Yes, I am falling for him. Yes, I like him. Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Hermione," Harry sighed.

She buried her head in her hands. "I know," came the muffled reply. "I know."

"You can't like him."

"Because he has a girlfriend whom he loves. I get it. Because it'll never happen between us. I know. Because we have a deal."

Harry nodded simply. "Has anything happened between you two?"

Draco held his breath. He shouldn't have kissed her. He knew he shouldn't have kissed her. It was instinctive. Purely impulse. It toyed with his emotions, and more importantly, hers.

"We kissed," she said simply. "It didn't mean anything."

"For you or for him?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

She merely confirmed it when she shrugged.

His eyes fell downwards, as he struggled to control his thoughts.

Draco was confused, to say the least.

Everything with Hermione was so wrong, but felt so right. And everything with Steph was so right, but felt so wrong.

But with Steph, he didn't feel guilty.

Hermione was everything that he had always wanted to be. She was like...an angel, and he was the devil.

The devil never deserves an angel.

Sin deserves punishment, not reward.

Draco...he didn't deserve—

"Oh Draco, you're back," exclaimed Hermione, plastering a smile on her face.

"I think we should get back," he said evenly, watching as the sun's last rays covered the sky.

Harry pushed his chair back. "Yes," he said, giving Hermione a pointed look. "Let's go."

Hermione looked away, trailing after the two men as they walked to the fireplace in the cafe.

Harry disappeared first, but not without a pitying glance at her.

She didn't need pity.

She followed after, flooing back to the Malfoy Manor. Draco, the last.

Finally, as he dusted himself off after the trip, his demeanour slightly reflective—the doorbell rang.

They walked towards the foyer, just as Lucius and Narcissa descended the stairs.

"It better not be Harry Potter again," he grimaced.

The butler opened the door.

"No, it's better," murmured Hermione sadly.

Draco took a step back in shock. "Steph?"

"Surprise, surprise."

**STEPH comes back. Who thinks Hermione should fight?:)**

**Me! Me!**

**She throws some mean punches ;) maybe...LOL no just kidding!**

**REVIEW!**


	27. In Too Deep

**Ok, as of now, there are 989 reviews. By dar, this is more than I ever, Ever, expected, and you should know that all of you made me EXTREEMMELLLLLY happy : )**

**To **Shat, **any particular reason you didn't like the last few? Any suggestions or something? :)**

**That is all!**

* * *

**In Too Deep**

"St-Stephanie," Draco stuttered, willing that his eyes were deceiving him. He blinked rapidly, and still, the image of the girl standing in from on him didn't fade. Clearly, there was _some _sort of misunderstanding, because his girlfriend was no supposed to be here. He was vaguely aware that his entire family and Hermione were standing just behind him. He tried to think quickly for a rememdy to the situation, but rather found himself at lost. He could only repeat. "Stephanie?

Maybe it was his mind playing tricks on him, and not his eyes.

He turned around, hoping to see the rest of the people completely unaware. No such luck. His parent were looking at the girl sceptically, pointedly waiting for him to offer some sort of explanation or introduction. Something which he couldn't give.

And Hermione. He bit his lip and glanced further. She was starting off into space, her expression unreadable and blank.

"Hey Drake," Steph murmured, her voice not quite as melodious as it once was. It lacked the commanding bossy tone. The little pitch that made it...made it..._hers_. He shook his head fervently, as if to shake away that though.

"Draco," he heard Hermione hiss, finally snapping out of her reverie. At first he thought she was calling him, but as he looked up, he found that she was hissing towards Steph. He guessed she didn't like the name Drake either.

Steph ignored her. "Well aren't you going to invite me in?"

Narcissa finally stepped forwards. "Pardon me," she said slowly, "but who are you again?"

"I'm Stephanie madam. Stephanie Meyers." She held out her hand, and Narcissa gently took it. "I'm his girlfriend," she stated blatantly out of habit, temporarily forgetting the situation.

He grimaced. "Well actually..."

"You mean a friend that's a girl?" Narcissa smiled, releasing the hand.

"Yes," Draco answered, unconsciously finding his way towards Hermione. He touched her shoulder, forcing her to look up at him.

_Let me talk to her, _he mouthed. She frowned but nodded nonetheless.

"Mother, father, can I just talk to her privately for a moment?" He quickly sent a fierce glare towards Stephanie, who had opened her mouth to say something.

Lucius looked at Hermione, "do you have any objections to that?" he asked quietly. If she did, he wouldn't hesitate in kicking the girl out of his house. He didn't like visitors much anyways.

Hermione smiled uneasily. She looked between Draco and Steph, having a hushed heated conversation while Draco occasionally looked to see if they were gone yet. She barely found her voice. "No," she said slowly and a little sadly. "Let's leave them be."

"Draco," she called, "we'll wait for you in the parlour." As she left, she noted that she barely received a response.

He watched their retreating backs until they were fully out af view before returning his gaze to Stephanie.

"What," he asked simply, "are you doing here?" He gestured with his arm to the house.

"I.." she faltered. "Don't you want me here?" She looked teary eyed, and Draco sighed.

He looked away. "It's not that I don't want you here," he began, "but..."

She reached for him, tilting his head up with her fingers. "Draco?" she whispered, taking a step towards him. "I've just missed you so much," she breathed, as she leaned forwards, her lashes fluttering to a close. She placed a quick kiss on his lips. He didn't object, but neither did he respond.

Inside him was a battle. Before Steph had come, it had already been a battle. And now that she was here, it made it all the more real. That was another reason he didn't really want her here, not that he would tell her.

He pulled away. "Not now."

"Why?" She stepped back.

Draco considered. Why? He had no problem with it before. Rather, he gladly welcomed it. But it wasn't the same. The kiss wasn't sweet. It wasn't—"Because my parents are in this house. I'm supposed to be with Hermione remember?"

"I thought it was Granger," she frowned, looking up at him.

"It was," he answered simply. "I mean, it is." He wrung his hands nervously.

She didn't notice. She shrugged. "Well, how it the plan then?"

"It...has its faults. It's not going that smoothly," he answered honestly. "Which is all the more reason Steph, that you can't stay here."

"Even just for a few day?"

"Stephanie," he pleaded.

"A few days," she promised. "That's all." She pouted. It was _the _face again. The face that had gotten him in this mess in the first place. The face that he could never resist. "Please?"

He swallowed. "Let me...let me ask Hermione." She frowned.

He had just resisted. And that fact bewildered both him and her.

She smiled tightly at him. "Of course," she answered, just before he took her arm and led her in the direction of the parlour.

* * *

"Hermione," he whispered as he took a seat beside her on the couch. Steph sat on his other side.

Hermione looked from Draco to Steph and back. "Yes," she snapped quietly.

"Steph wants to stay a few days and..."

Before she could stop herself, Hermione asked. "How could she stay a few days? Wouldn't your parents get suspicious?"

Draco frowned. "I know but..."

"But you want her here," Hermione assumed, finishing his sentence. She couldn't tell him how heavy her heart felt at that moment. How disappointed she was feeling. And at the same time, how foolish she decided she was for believing there could ever be something more.

"Not that's not it," he murmured.

"It's fine Draco."

"But—"

"It's _fine," _she said, turning away.

"But," he tried again.

She silenced him with a look. But he didn't stop because he was frightened by her glare. He stopped because he couldn't find his voice after seeing the genuine bit of hurt intermingled in her eyes.

He cleared his throat uncomfortable. "Father, Mother, this is Steph, as I said before. She needs to stay with us for a few days." He looked at her specifically. "A few days," he repeated.

He took Hermione's hand in his, but she easily slipped out of his grasp.

* * *

The walk after the awkward dinner was, if possible, even _more _awkward. Draco swas positioned in between Hermione and Steph. Or rather, that was how it had started. In the end, Hermione had sped forwards up front.

"Drake," Steph whined before the doorway to the room across the hall from Draco and Hemione. He rubbed his temples tiredly. "I don't want to sleep here."

"What do you want then," he sighed, looking towards Hermione, who seemed to refuse to pay them any attention.

The night had been stressful to say the least. He had tried his best to make Steph appear only as a friend, but she seemed to have none of it. The moment he placed his hand over Hermione's for example, she would grab his other one. And it didn't help that Hermione seemed to do her best to avoid anything to do with him as well. She hadn't talked much all dinner, barely picking at her food. He understood it wasn't her problem, but shouldn't she help anyways?

"I want to sleep with _you, _" Steph murmured, glancing up and down the empty hall. Steph grabbed his hand, rubbing her thumb against it in a circular motion. She leaned up to kiss him, but Draco stumbled back as he caught sight of Hermione a couple steps away.

"Steph," he refused. She rolled her eyes. "My parents might check."

"Drakkkeeee," she dragged out.

"They've checked before already," Hermione finally spoke quietly, "I think it will be fine. The problem isn't that they don't believe we're dating." She turned away from them. "I'll sleep in here. You guys can have the room."

"Hermione," Draco said helplessly. He understood what she was saying. He understood how much it meant. He put his hand on her shoulder.

She simply shrugged, at the same time, taking a step away so his hand fell. Her back was to him so that he couldn't see her eyes well up. He wasn't hers, she reminded herself. He never was. And the return of Steph just served as a good reminder of that—a wake up call from the dream she had been living.

Steph turned towards her, with her hand still around Draco's. "Thanks," she smiled.

"It wasn't for you," Hermione retorted in a barely audible voice. She opened the door and disappeared within. Gently, she shut the door and slid down its length until she was seated on the ground. She banged her head against the door quietly, trying not to hear the two voices outside—hoping and praying not to hear any sounds at all.

Hermione wasn't keen on being the big person, and she didn't plan to be. She wasn't going to be the nicest person to the girl. Hermione liked Draco. The fact was unavoidable. However, she understood that Draco didn't belong to her. She wouldn't steal him from somebody else, no. But she wouldn't simply give up. She figured that as long as he gave her some hope, she would fight for him.

As she stood up, she heard the other door shut.

She sighed, looking at the empty bedroom in front of her. About a month ago, she would have given anything to sleep in this room rather than with him. Now, she didn't want to sleep alone at all.

She threw herself wholly onto the bed, too disconcerted to embrace the soft comforter surrounding her.

She crawled further up so that her head rested on the pillow and tucked herself under the blanket without bothering to change. She didn't feel like it.

She turned to her side and closed her eyes, trying to urge herself to fall asleep. She turned to the other side. Finally, she lay on her back, eyes open, staring at the ceiling.

For nearly an hour, she tossed and turned, but sleep still never found her. Eventually, she decided that it was never going to happen. As much as she would have liked to simply clear her mind, she couldn't.

She couldn't get her mind off Draco and Steph. She couldn't stop imagining what they could be doing in the room. Hermione tried to make herself believe that she didn't care, but she did.

Which was precisely the reason she ended up creeping on her tiptoes across the hall. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bit her lip. This was foolish, she knew. What if she were caught? She felt like a lovesick teenager, and that thought almost made her turn back. She couldn't help herself though. She was in too deep.

As she stared at the door merely steps from her, she couldn't resist the pull of it. She crept towards it, wincing as she heard her own footsteps. Pausing to make sure nobody came out, she thought back to the times—rare times—that she had snuck out with either Harry or Ron. It would be handy to have Harry's invisibility cloak at that moment.

Nevertheless, she pressed her ear against the door, straining to pick out any noises.

It was silent. Completely, and absolutely silent. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. But as she began to pull away, she heard a 'creak'. That was indubitably the loose board on Draco's side of the bed, she recognized. It wasn't long until she heard footsteps on the ground, padding towards the door.

She gasped quietly, and hurried back to her room, barely managing to make it back into her bed before her own door creaked open.

She tried to breathe evenly, but her heart pounded rapidly. She was barely able to keep her eyes shut, as her hands twisted beneath the blanket.

Yes, she would fight, she thought, as she heard the door click shut.

**REVIEW.**

**Next chapter **preview**—****When It Rains, It Pours**

_Draco couldn't take this anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut, and grabbed both their arms. "We're going out," he growled. "We're going _out_."_

"_Fine," Hermione mumbled, crossing her arms._

_Steph glared. "Fine with me as well."_

"_Here," Draco smiled, placing a small daisy into Hermione's hands. "For you."_

_She smiled, "thanks." She blushed. She tried to tuck the flower into her hair._

_Draco reached forwards, and took her hands in his to stop her. "I'll help," he offered as an explanation when she looked at him wildly. She nodded._

_Steph looked on, jealousy burning in her eyes. "Draco," she choked out, "I need to talk to you. _Now."


	28. When It Rains, It Pours

**To Shat, and all else, I know what you mean that Hermione never fought for Ron really. But I just don't want to portray her as the girl who believes "whatever makes him happy makes her happy" type thing. She's not going to steal him. She's not going to punch her. She's just...not going to give up on him. And perhaps bring out a little inner beehive once in a while.**

**HOWEVER, i DO get what you mean. I don't know how to remedy it much. **

**I will try to keep Hermione as in character as possible.**

Just to explain. The idea I tried to hint was that it was Draco who checked on Hermione, and that was why she decided that she wasn't going to give up. Because earlier she said that as long as he gave her some hope. And by checking on her...so yes, just to clarify. THAT IS VITAL TO KNOW!

* * *

**When It Rains, It Pours**

The sound of the rain against the roof awakened the family particularly early that morning. The loud splattering, enhanced by the thunderous rumblings of the dreary sky, was what greeted Hermione as her eyes fluttered open.

She rolled to her other side, preparing to meet the sight of the blonde haired man sleeping peacefully beside her. But alas, she realized that she was alone.

She pushed back her disappointment, which wasn't so new to her anyway, and sat upright. Outside, the rain was pouring. She swung her legs to the side of the bed and stood, padding her way to the washroom. Her toiletries were all there, courtesy of the house elves. She wondered if Steph's had replaced hers.

It wasn't long before she had showered and dressed; her wild hair up into a ponytail. For the first time since she could remember, she opened her long outdated makeup kit. Hermione sat herself down in front of the mirror and stared at the reflection, poking at the few freckles on her face. She shook her head, an amused smile playing on her lips, and closed her makeup kit.

However, she did pick up her comb and to comb out the knots from her ponytail. Every little bit could help. Once she was satisfied, she quickly cleaned off the counter of her stuff and headed to the door.

She couldn't quite judge what time it was because of the weather outside, but she figured she was probably the first one up anyways. Lucius and Narcissa had never been early wakers. Draco...well, Hermione supposed he inherited that trait from his parents. And from what she deduced about Steph...she wasn't going to be waking up anytime soon either.

So it was quite the surprise for her to find herself across the hall from Draco and Steph just as both set of doors were opened.

"Oh," Hermione said, startled, as she shut the door quietly behind her. "Good morning," she muttered to Draco rather awkwardly.

They both nodded groggily. "Morning," Draco murmured, his eyes squinted.

She peered curiously at the two. Why were they so tired? They hadn't been_ doing _anything had they? Hermione didn't believe so. She had checked! There was no possible way...

But her curiosity tugged at her. "What happened?"

"Damn house elf," Steph growled, rubbing her eyes as she stumbled her way down the hall beside Draco.

Hermione glared. Nobody..._nobody..._would curse a house elf in front of her. She was about to snap when she felt Draco lay a hand on her arm. "Moxie decided to 'pop' in this morning," he explained, "literally 'pop'" he emphasized.

Relieved that they were tired because they had been awakened early, she dismissed the house elf diss. "Why?"

"She said she heard rumours that you weren't sleeping with me. None of the house elves dared check other than her of course," he glared at her rather teasingly. Hermione, over her course at the Manor, had taken to Moxie and simply spoiled her. Hermione looked on innocently. "Anyways," he continued, "I made her swear not to tell. She wasn't happy, to say the least. I think she's impartial to you too." He raised his eyebrow at her.

She smiled. Unconsciously, as they walked, Hermione and Draco travelled faster than Steph, who trailed behind. Steph struggled to keep up.

Draco felt himself brighten in Hermione's presence. He didn't know why. It wasn't brighten so much as...he couldn't explain it. He just liked it. He felt more awake.

"Hey!" Steph cried.

Draco looked guiltily at Hermione, who feigned nonchalance and shrugged, and slowed down his pace.

From behind, he noticed that Hermione's hair was up. He found that he liked it that way. The way the strands would come loose and frame her face from the front. Suddenly, he realized that he was looking at those strands. She had turned around.

"We're almost there," she said. "You might want to walk faster so it looks like you're walking with me." Then, she promptly turned back around. Draco looked sheepishly towards Steph before speeding up again.

Hermione smiled inwardly. So what if they were still a whole hall from the dining room—Malfoy Manor halls were long, mind you.

As they _finally _approached the recognizable dining room for breakfast, Steph huffed. "We weren't close at _all." _She looked pointedly at Hermione.

Hermione shrugged easily. "Guess I just misjudged?"

* * *

The only sound that could be heard were the knives and forks tapping against the ceramic plates. Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. He used his foot to lightly kick Hermione, sitting by his side.

She turned towards him, and shrugged, motioning at Steph.

Draco used his elbow to nudge Steph's arm lightly as she poked her food around her plate. She looked up abruptly.

_Say something, _he mouthed.

Narcissa silently looked on, curious. She looked at Hermione questioningly, and Hermione responded with a shrug yet again. Hermione picked up her muffin and began to nibble at it.

"Can you pass the salt please?" Draco asked out loud.

Both Hermione and Steph reached for the bottles of salt sitting in front of them respectively. At the same time, they placed the two bottles in front of Draco, who ran his hand through his hair.

The bottles were staring up at him, silently mocking him. He swore it. They were silently asking him: _who do you choose? _

He stared at the bottles intently, contemplating. Finally, he set down his fork and picked up both bottles, on in each hand, simultaneously shaking both over his egg. What else could he do?

Again, a silence engulfed the room, with Narcissa busily looking on; Hermione easily feasting on her breakfast; Draco trying desperately to come up with something to say; Steph wondering what she could possible say; and Lucius trying his best to look formidable towards his son's friend, who seemed absolutely ignorant of the man's glowering. Lucius Malfoy was never ignored. It infuriated him.

"Remember the time at the amusement park?" Draco began, causing Hermione to look up. She shared a smile with him, and nodded briefly. "Father, mother?"

Lucius finally turned away from Steph, looking towards Hermione. "Yes," he allowed, "Hermione here gave us quite an experience."

Hermione smiled. "From that, am I to assume you had fun?"

Lucius actually smiled at the girls cheekiness. "Assume what you wish Ms. Granger."

"Oh stop it Lou. Stop teasing the poor girl. You're going to make her flustered!"

Draco actually laughed. "I don't think she'll get flustered mother."

At that, Hermione blushed. She was about to retort when Stephanie, who felt rather left out, interrupted. "Draco—" Hermione began.

"Remember the time when we went to the movies Draco?" she put forth. Hermione frowned.

Draco choked on his drink, and whipped his head around to face his girlfriend. "Wh-what?"

"What's a movie?" Narcissa asked suspiciously.

Draco kicked Hermione in the shin again, and this time she grimaced. "A movie," Hermione explained with a sigh, more to divert the conversation than to satisfy Narcissa's curiosity, "is like a series of wizard photographs strung together. They're hours long."

"That sounds interesting," she answered.

"It is," assured Stephanie, glad to have found a way to offer her input.

"Maybe we should all go then," Lucius suggested.

Steph nudged Draco's elbow. He winced."I was thinking just Draco and I—"

But Hermione had anticipated this. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, and kicked Draco back, equally as hard as he had kicked her, on the leg. He grimaced. "—and I," Hermione added, smiling tightly at Steph, daring her to reject.

"Ah the movies are a 'young' thing," Narcissa nodded. They weren't really, but Hermione wasn't about to decline the perfectly good explanation.

"Yes," she said. "I'll bring you one another day," she promised.

Meanwhile, Steph hissed to Draco, glaring slightly, "what?"

"What do you mean what?" he hissed back, "you should be thanking her."

Steph huffed, and nudged him in the arm again.

Hermione, at the same time, kicked him. He glared at Steph first, before finally turning towards Hermione.

She ignored his annoyed look completely. _Stop having your lover's spat, _she mouthed angrily, turning back to Narcissa just in time as she finished talking to her husband.

"A movie you say," Lucius said slowly. "I still don't get it."

Steph nudged Draco again. He angrily ran his hands through his hair.

He couldn't take this anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll show—" Hermione said, before she was cut off by Draco's hand grabbing her arm. She whipped around to see his other hand doing the same to Steph.

"We're going out," he growled, "We're going out _now_." Any minute longer, and Draco was sure that either he was going to get two very large bruises, or the plot would be spilled.

Hermione yanked her arm from his grasp. "Fine," she spat, crossing her arms. It wasn't her fault he couldn't handle his girlfriend.

Steph glared at Hermione. "Fine with me as well."

* * *

After consideration—more specifically, loud loud arguing for nearly a full 10 minutes—they had decided on going to Diagon Alley. Draco's headache re-emerged just thinking about it, as the three descended the stepped onto the cobblestone streets of the busy area.

The summer heat swelled against them, combined with the numerous people lining the streets. It was hot, and uncomfortable, and Draco was getting pushed around through the crowd like a ping-pong ball. Needless to say, he wasn't in much of a good mood.

"Hey Draco," Hermione called, tugging on his right arm. She pointed towards the display window of a small store, selling assorted goods. "Isn't that just adorable," she said, as they approached the glass. She pointed towards the small teddy bear lying on its stomach.

Draco nodded. "Its passable," he acknowledged, a smile tugging at his lips.

Hermione bumped him. "Oh come on Draco, admit it! What is it passing anyways?" She rolled her eyes and smiled up at him.

He shrugged. "Alright alright, it's cute."

Hermione nodded, satisfied, until she heard Steph call from a little further up the street. "Drake!"

Hermione stared at him, fighting a laugh. "Drake?" she questioned.

Draco groaned. "Don't go there," he mumbled, before leaving Hermione to catch up to Steph.

"Look at this! Buy it for me," she said.

Draco looked into the display. "Steph, you already have this."

Steph looked into the window. "Oh." Draco rolled his eyes.

Steph watched as Hermione drew closer to them. "Oh Draco," she said pointing to a clothing shop across the street, "can you go there with me please?"

He nodded after a moment. Draco turned around. "Hermione," he yelled. She looked up and he pointed at the store.

Steph bit her lip. "I didn't mean..." she began, but thought better of it. She took his hand and led him into the store.

The bells chimed as they entered. And again, as Hermione entered.

"Hello," a man said, as he appeared from the back of the store. Hermione supposed it was the storekeeper.

"Hello," she replied.

"Anything I can do for you?"

Steph nodded furiously and pointed at a dress slung across the manikin displayed at the centre of the store. "That dress," she said.

"It is our newest dress," the storekeeper allowed. He smiled benevolently. "You have good taste."

"Can I try it?" Steph asked.

The man nodded. "Certainly."

"Size 2," Steph responded with a smirk.

The man nodded yet again. He waved his wand and gestured towards the changerooms near the back. "Your dress is there miss, go ahead."

Steph looked towards Draco, who nodded, before hurrying to the back.

As she left, the man turned to Hermione.

"And you miss?"

She shook her head.

"Are you sure?" The man asked, frowning. "What about the dress your friend is trying on?"

"She's not really my frien—" Hermione began. She stopped herself. "It's a nice dress."

"Then try it," the man said, smiling.

Hermione shook her head again.

The man turned towards Draco. "Convince your girlfriend to try it sir," he said, looking at Hermione, "she would look beautiful in it."

"She's not my—" "He's not my—"

They laughed awkwardly. "She couldn't pull it off," Draco added, to ease the tension.

Hermione huffed. "That is not true."

"I bet it is," he teased. "That's why you won't try it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, sir, can you get me a dress?" She looked pointedly at Draco. "Size four." Then she headed towards the change rooms as well, with the two men following closely behind.

Draco waited outside the change rooms, leaning against the mirror. "Both of you guys are so slow," he complained, staring at his reflection.

Through the mirror, he saw the door open. He turned around as Stephanie stepped out of the room.

She cocked her head and looked at him questioningly with a smile.

He nodded. "You look beautiful," he said, stepping forwards just as the other door opened.

Hermione peeped her head out. "Um.." she said, looking at Draco and Steph.

She stepped out, and Draco felt his words hitch in his throat.

The green dress may have hugged Steph's every curve, but it enhanced Hermione's. The dress may have brought out Steph's eyes, but it made Hermione's shimmer_. _

The strapless floor-length dress trailed behind her as Hermione stepped towards the mirror.

Her hair was still in the ponytail, revealing her long neckline and shoulder. Draco could feel his heart skip a beat everytime Hermione moved her shoulders. Draco felt his chest constrict. The silky dress swayed with her hips as she walked and Draco fought the urge to run his fingers along the material.

"Draco?"

"Draco?" Steph repeated.

Draco shook his head, and turned to his girlfriend. Suddenly, the dress didn't look quite so beautiful on her anymore. "Who looks better?"

Draco looked between the two. His throat was dry.

Luckily, Hermione wasn't listening.

"You," he managed quietly. But what his voice said, his face did not. He could barely tear his gaze away from Hermione.

"Draco?" Steph asked quietly.

He didn't respond, instead watching Hermione cross the distance towards them. His heart raced, and his throat was dry. She looked absolutely...it was indescribable.

"How is it?"

Draco gulped. "You," he cleared his throat, "you do more than pull off the dress," he whispered.

Neither girls knew what he meant by that.

"Hey, are we done in this store?" Hermione asked.

"You can go to another store. You have somewhere else you want to be?" Steph asked.

Hermione frowned. "Not really..." she said slowly.

"Are you sure," Steph asked eagerly. "Cause we want to shop here," she said bluntly.

Hermione scanned the street through window. "I think...I'll go to the quidditch shop over there," she pointed.

Draco looked at her suspiciously. "You hate quidditch," he accused.

"And I'm sure you love shopping for clothes," she snorted, gesturing at the shop.

"Draccoo," Steph urged impatiently.

Hermione shrugged, smiling, before walking back into the change room. "I'm counting on you to find me," she called through the door.

* * *

"Why aren't we going to the quidditch shop to find her?" Steph asked as they passed the shop. "Not that I mind," she assured.

Draco rolled her eyes. "Because she wouldn't be in there," he explained. "I'm not going to ditch her."

Steph frowned. "I didn't think you would anyways," she muttered. "How do you know she won't be there?"

"I just do," Draco answered, not really sure how he knew either.

Steph crossed her arms. "So where would she be then huh?"

He looked up and down the street. Candy shop. Maybe. Clothing shop. Clothing shop. He searched, until he found the joke shop on the street. Not that Hermione would ever usually be caught in a joke shop. But this shop was the exception of course.

He nodded towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"There?" Steph asked, clearly surprised.

He crossed the street with Steph trailing behind. He didn't even hesitate as he pushed open the front doors, not that he could say the same for the two owners of the shop.

"First Hermione brings a Zabini here—" Fred began, stepping in front of the counter.

"—and now a Malfoy tags along too?" George finished.

Hermione hopped off her seat on the counter. "Hello," she greeted merrily. "Popping Pooping Candy anyone?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Can we get out of here before they weaselate me?"

"Weaselate again?" Hermione sighed and turned towards the twins.

"They have no originality at all," Fred agreed to the unspoken statement.

"What's that mean?" Draco asked.

"The Zabini kid said the exact same thing last time."

"Weasel germs, he said," Fred continued off George's statement.

"Well it's true," Draco said, crossing his arms.

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. She leaned up and gave both Fred and George a kiss on the cheek that made Draco's insides swirl. Then she turned towards Draco and the completely affronted, disgusted and mute Steph. "Let's go then I guess. Thanks Fred, thanks George."

"No—"

"—problem!" They called as the three headed out the door.

As they descended the few steps to the street, Steph opened her mouth to speak, but Draco interrupted her. He lifted a bag in his hand towards Hermione.

"Here."

Hermione turned around. "Me?"

Draco nodded, and shook the bag lightly. "For you," he explained.

She smiled, although confused and accepted the bag. "What for?"

Draco shrugged, while Steph froze on the steps.

Hermione looked down at the bag and blushed. "Thanks," she muttered.

Draco leaned forwards and took her hands, opening the bag up a little.

"It's the dress," he said, explaining. He dropped his hands. "It looked...indescribable on you," he whispered.

Hermione looked down and tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ear. "Thanks, I think" she said again.

Steph looked on, jealousy burning within her eyes. "Draco," she choked out, "we need to talk. _Now."_

**I'm not happy with this chappie at all :(**

**I don't know what it is about it.**

**I hope Hermione isn't too out of character?**


	29. There's a Time for Everything

**Except, thanks for all the reviews! And encouragement!**

**However, if I do (amazingly) get this chapter done today(Tuesday June 17), this will be my last chapter this week because I have my exams Thursday and Friday.**

* * *

**There's a Time For Everything**

It was like one of those scenes in movies. And it all started as his hand came in contact with her skin. He had that effect on her.

The music played in her ears—a figment of her imagination she supposed. It was the type of heart pumping, time elongating pieces of music that always—_always—_found its way to the most perfect suspenseful moments in movies.

Time seemed to slow as Hermione watched each and every scene unfold in front of her.

And as this all happened at once, her world began to spin. Literally. Yet not. She wasn't actually spinning. But through her eyes it was—slowly—around the three of them.

The music escalated in her ears, and Hermione wished she could cover them and muffle the sound. As if it wasn't bad enough.

She slowly watched Draco look up. Their eyes locked. The bag in her hands felt heavier than ever.

His grey eyes seemed to call to her. But slowly, he turned away.

And as he walked off towards Steph—_his girlfriend, _Hermione reminded herself—the music began to fade; time seemed to resume; and the world stilled. Had Steph said something?

Suddenly, as she watched Draco's retreating back, the world around her engulfed her. She was swallowed up by the crowd beside her, the noises around her, the smells surrounding her. It was as if, for a few moments, she had lost all senses, and all of a sudden, they came storming back towards her.

She stumbled back, her hand on the railing for support. Why was this happening? She needed answers. She needed facts. She didn't need assumptions and hopes.

She tried to search out Draco through the swarm of people, eyes trained on the mass of pale blonde hair but it was nowhere to be seen—he was nowhere to be seen. She turned back towards the store, preparing to retreat back to familiar territory. Because that was what the Weasley's were—familiar. And for the first time, she realized that for the past weeks, she had been completely familiar—on unfamiliar territory.

She took a step towards the store. Then, turned back around. She didn't want to face the questions. The laughs that a joke shop was bound to have. From her step, she looked over the hustle of the people that her perched position allowed. She didn't want to face that either.

She lent her weight against the railing and slid to a seat on the wooden steps in front of the shop, placing the bag in between her legs in front of her.

She waited, in sort of a daze. Because she realized something. She realized that she couldn't go on like this. Because she was the hero. She was the good girl.

And eventually, she would have to choose between being the good girl and her love for the boy. Wouldn't that be what it would come to the way it was going?

She wrung her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers in knots. Someone pushed by, kicking the bag accidentally. Her first reaction was to steady it, even as she toppled against the railing. She straightened herself back up and held the reins of the bag tightly in her hand.

Yes, she decided, reaching into the bag to run her fingers over the silky material. Because she felt like the bad person. She felt like the seductress leading the innocent man away, although she knew that was nothing like the truth. But how could she help what she felt?

She knew, that it was either her or Steph. Not that she had anything much against the girl, but she hoped it was her. She scanned for Draco again.

No, she couldn't go on like this. And she knew, neither could Steph. And Draco...Draco couldn't last long either.

It was all a matter of time. Hermione would talk to Draco before the time came. Later.

* * *

"What was that?"

"What?" Draco asked.

"That," Steph repeated, gesturing wildy. She could hear the anger in her voice, the tenseness, covering up her hurt.

"I bought my friend a present," Draco said. He had a hard time making eye contact with her.

"Don't feed me that shit. Don't lie to me," Steph yelled angrily, raising her voice.

"I'm not." Draco lifted his eyes to meet hers, knowing that there wasn't an ounce of nervousness in his face. Years of training had provided him with that skill.

Steph stared at him, searching for any signs. Finally, she sighed. "You've changed."

She reached for his hand, and he allowed her to take it. She could feel the stiffness—the reluctance. "You've changed," she confirmed.

"People change," he said in a soft voice, staring at her hands engulfing his.

She dropped his hand. "Do you think I can't tell that you're changing because of _her? _Do you think I can't tell you're falling for her? Do you think I can't tell she's in love with you?"

Draco's heart thumped all of a sudden as the thought hit close to home.

The sudden lapse created a moment in which is facade disappeared. Steph caught on that. "I'm right aren't I?"

Draco didn't respond.

"Answer me damnit!" Steph screeched, slightly hysterical. She threw feeble hits at him, which he easily blocked. He grabbed her hands.

"ANSWER ME DRACO!" she yelled, struggling against him.

"So what if I care about her?" he said quietly. His hard grey eyes trained on the girl, who was still struggling.

"It's not just caring," she hissed as his grip slackened. She pushed his hands away as if something disgusting and backed up. "It's not just that."

He shrugged half heartedly, as if brushing off the statement. "Steph, you're my girlfriend—"

"Don't forget that I can stop the act at any time." She had regained her cool, and crossed her arms. Her voice was hard and unforgiving.

Draco's head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. The coldness in his eyes that had slowly faded away due to Hermione's persistence came back to him with ease. It made Steph uncomfortable. She had never seen this. "Are you threatening _me? _" he asked quietly, menacingly.

She gulped. "N-no. I'm telling you."

Draco sneered. "Good, because I don't take threats. And it'd do you good to remember that." He turned around coolly and began to walk way. Her voice stopped him.

"I'm telling you as your girlfriend. I'll be damned if I lose you to some girl who I _hired _."

He looked back, his eyes glinting angrily. "You won't lose me like that. But you _will _lose me the moment you tell." His composure scared her, as she was nowhere near calm.

"It shouldn't matter to you," she said quietly, watching his erect back. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Draco pretended not to hear. Although he did.

He felt bad about it, certainly. That was unavoidable. But nobody threatened him. He didn't believe Steph would tell his parents the plan. She wouldn't dare.

He wanted to tell himself that it was because they had gotten so far already, but he wasn't going to lie to himself anymore. He didn't want Hermione gone. It was as simple as that. And he was sorry to have to hurt Steph along the way.

Steph was right about one thing though. This wasn't supposed to happen.

* * *

Everything seemed to happen in this room, Draco mused to himself, as he chewed the food in his mouth.

The dining room.

He didn't know the beginning of it.

After his..._talk _...with Steph, he had returned to find Hermione at the steps. She had looked up, looked into his eyes, and mutely stood up. As much as he tried to swallow the "old" Draco back up, he knew Hermione could pick it out in a second. He just needed time to calm down again. To revert to the self he had become with her.

She had simply stood up, nodded briefly, and followed him as Steph appeared. Nobody spoke. Maybe it was because the three of them had come to a mutual understanding, an unspoken acknowledgement, that something big and epic had happened. Either way, there was nothing any of them could say.

They had returned home, and immediately separated. Hermione to her room, Steph to hers, and Draco to be left in the hallway in between.

He would have given anything to be able to have the courage to ignore his guilt and enter Hermione's room. But Draco wasn't conscienceless. Not even close.

He supposed they had all returned to console with their respective thoughts.

And now, here they were, hours later, eating dinner.

"Is there anything wrong with the food? The house elves can change it if you would prefer something else," Narcissa Malfoy spoke as she observed the girl pushing her food around.

Everyone looked towards Steph, who shook her head quickly. "No, nothing's wrong..with the food." And to prove her point, she forked a baby carrot and carefully placed it in her mouth. She chewed it slowly.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't even know if it was the right thing to do. Nonetheless, she rapidly swallowed her food and stood up, her chair skidding back a few inches.

She lifted her fork to clink the glass, but quickly set it down, choosing otherwise. She cleared her throat and forced herself not to look at Draco.

Because she knew if she looked at him, she wouldn't be able to go through with this. Not just because his expression would be angry. Not just because he would be willing her to shut up and sit back down. No, because as much as it didn't seem like it sometimes, she did truly care about him. And she knew that she was risking losing him.

Either way though, she figured, she would be losing him.

She focused on Narcissa and Lucius, who both stared at her intently, if not a little meanly.

"I—" she began, but her voice was hoarse. She picked up her glass of water and took a large sip. She cleared her throat again. "I have a confession to make."

"Or rather, we have a confession to make."

Draco gulped, and grabbed her hand, not caring. He tugged at it violently, urging her to sit down, as he looked from the determined setting of Steph's face, to the intrigue on his parents' faces, to the paleness caused by realization on Hermione's face. His other hand reached for Hermione, but she refused to let him.

"Step—"

"Draco," his mother admonished, "let the girl continue."

And as Steph shook his hand away, he felt defeat sink around him. It was over, he knew. Their game. Their act. Them.

He turned and watched Hermione who had her eyes shut, as if in pain. Perhaps she was really in pain. He certainly was.

"You see, Hermione isn't Draco's girlfriend. I am."

Draco watched as Hermione fell back against her chair; as his father's face contorted into something between suspicion and anger; as his mother leaned back, crossing her arms calmly. He buried his head in his hands.

Steph watched as Lucius gathered his thoughts to speak; watched as Narcissa looked at her—merely looked on; and refused to watch what she knew was going to be defeat in the other twos' eyes.

She hurried on. "But Draco and I knew you wouldn't accept me. Or believed you wouldn't. So we hired somebody to purposely infuriate you."

"What would be the purpose in that?" Narcissa asked, calmly—eerily. She never raised her voice, but Steph could hear every terse annunciation, every bit of suppressed emotion, every note of authority.

"So that you would accept anyone but _her."_

"Accept you, you mean," Narcissa clarified.

Steph wanted to continue. She wanted to say something more, but stumbled on her words. What else was there to say? "I'm—"

But Lucius cut her off. He turned sharply towards Hermione and Draco. "Is this true?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Draco couldn't find his voice. He had never seen his father so angry, so red, in years.

"Yes," he heard Hermione say weakly. He turned around to face her, as she slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes, oddly glinting in the light.

"Yes," she choked out, her chair scraping back. The noise resounded. "Yes." And with that, she turned and fled the room.

Nearly a second after Hermione fled the room, Draco stood up, the table and cutlery shaking as he did. He turned to follow after her.

"You could not have been faking it," he heard his mother say coolly. He turned around slowly, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he glared at everyone in the room, out of pure spite. His mother chuckled softly, her easy going demeanour fading as she leaned her elbows onto the table, arching forwards. Narcissa Malfoy meant business now. She placed one fragile hand over her husbands, calming him down. "I'm old, but I'm no fool," she said, staring into his son's eyes. "You were not faking it." She didn't seem angry at all, she seemed maybe even a little amused.

Draco paused. "No," he said, not breaking eye contact. "I wasn't."

And as Narcissa nodded, Draco fled the room after Hermione. "Good."

* * *

_It's okay, _she told herself as she flew up the steps. _It's for the best. You yourself said something had to happen. That you would have to choose. _

But it wasn't okay. Because she didn't want this. This wasn't her choice.

_It's okay, _she tried to convince herself. _Now you don't have to talk to Draco. Now you can leave. Now you're free. _

But she didn't want to be free.

She walked into Draco's room, out of habit. But the presence of Steph overwhelmed her.

She barely made it to her room before she collapsed on the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Draco had made his choice. He must have planned this with Stephanie. He made his choice, and it wasn't her.

Maybe she knew it wasn't going to be all along. But she had hoped. And damnit, the plummet of disappointment was bigger now.

She crawled into a sitting position, grabbed her pillow, and threw it as hard as she could at the door in an attempt to muster up rage against him.

And as the pillow fell limply on the ground, she heard quick approaching footsteps. Through her blurry vision, she stumbled off the bed and towards the door. She grabbed the handle and pushed it, just as Draco appeared.

He barely caught sight of her broken, teary expression before the door shut.

Hermione put all her weight against the door, as he struggled with it on the other side. "Hermione!" She pulled out her wand, and locked the door, before stumbling back to the bed.

She sat down, and looked around wildly.

The transfigured two trunks, and tried to calm herself down as things flew around her, packing away. But in the end, she figured "calm" wasn't going to come to her at all.

"Hermione!"

**REVIEEWWWW! :)**


	30. The One Act Play

**Sorry for the delay! On the bright side, I completed all my exams:) so now I'm officially on summer! Which means, I hope to finish this story...within the next 2 and a half weeks about. 1 update every half week or so? I'm not sure.**

**Ok, so about reviews..I LOVE YOU GUYS! :) You guys helped break my goal of 1200! Which makes me so excited! This is by FAR the most reviews I have ever gotten. So props there! Maybe by the end I'll hit 1500?:) **

**I just wanted to tell Colie, who reviewed very recently (today) that they were close, but not exact in their guesses.**

**And to clarify one more thing, when Draco said he wasn't faking it, it meant that he never faked his emotions for Hermione (or after a while, he hadn't been faking anymore) but ****Hermione never heard that.**

* * *

**The One Act Play**

"Hermione!" Draco called, his fist banging against the door. He heard the muffled sounds behind the door. He fumbled within the pockets in his robe for his wand and cursed himself for leaving it in his room.

It was torment for him, to be sitting out here, hearing the girl he loved hurt inside. It was torment furthur, because he knew he had caused it. For the first time in a long time, Draco feared. He feared that she would leave him. He feared that he wouldn't be able to tell her.

"Hermione!" he called again, and pondered whether to get his wand. He looked behind him. His room wasn't far away. But he feared the moment he left the door, she would go. "Open the door!"

On the other side of the door, Hermione stood silently in the middle of the room. What was Draco doing? He wanted her gone. And that fact was what hurt the most. She felt the rush of emotion well up in her again, and fought to suppress it. She ran a hand through her hair, while the other wiped away the leaking tears. She sniffled.

She stared at the door, wondering if she should..

"Hermione!" she heard him call again, in the sweet sweet voice of his she had come to love. She imagined what he looked like. She imagined his hair, his eyes, his face. And it was then that the tears flowed freely once again. She choked, and her hand flew to her mouth. She stumbled the other direction, towards her bed—towards her bags.

Outside, Draco bit his lip. She wasn't going to open the door. He looked around the hall, to find it was empty. He tried to shake the broken image of Hermione out of his head. He couldn't concentrate. She recalled her red eyes—the sources of the tear stains across her cheeks. He wanted to reach out and hold her. He wanted to..Draco shook his head again.

He leaned against the door, and rested his head against it. "Hermione," he called. "Please! You don't understand!"

And suddenly, he was falling forwards. He stumbled, as he caught the open door frame. He righted himself and rushed in immediately. "Hermione!" he called in one breath. "I didn't know she was going to do that! Hermione—"

"Sir."

"Hermion—" Draco paused, as his frantic eyes couldn't locate the girl. He rushed into the washroom. It was empty. He went back into the room, and although clearly she wasn't there, he searched. He searched and searched. He threw the blankets to the ground. Maybe she was hiding under them. He got on his knees and looked under the bed. She had to be here. She _had _to.

"Sir."

Draco whipped his head around. "Moxie," he said, his voice cracking.

"She gone sir," the house elf said sadly, shaking her head, looking pitifully at her master. "Miss is gone."

"Gone?" Draco fell back onto the ground from his kneeling position.

Moxie nodded slowly.

Draco ran a hand through his hair. "She's not gone," he denied. "She's NOT!"

"Master Draco..."

"Shut up Moxie! She's not GONE! You're wrong!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. He ran to the drawers and threw them open. They were empty. "No."

He headed towards the washroom, to find it completely barren.

He stumbled back out into the room, and felt a small hand guiding his leg. Moxie figured if she didn't, her master would fall over. And he did. With her help though, he made it to the bed before he fell. "She's gone."

Moxie nodded sadly.

"She's really gone."

Moxie nodded. Then frowned, and jumped on the bed. And continued jumping.

"Moxie," Draco groaned, "leave me alone. She's gone."

"What did Master do this time?"

Draco popped up, his head bobbing from the movement on the bed. "What makes you think—"

"What did Master do this time?" Moxie repeated, paying Draco no heed.

Draco sighed. "Master did something foolish. Master hurt her."

Moxie stopped jumping, and sat herself beside Draco—something that she had never dared do before her Miss had come. "Master must fix it." Moxie nodded fervently. "Master must! Master must!"

Draco sighed louder this time. "I know. What I don't know is how."

"Moxie will help," the house elf said hesitantly, as she twiddled her fingers, looking down, "if Master wants a house-elf's help."

Draco twisted around. "I would be...honoured...for your help Moxie."

"Then Moxie help," the house elf said, flashing a brilliant grin. She jumped up and pushed Draco. "Master start now!"

"Can't I wallow in self-pity for a while?"

Moxie shook her head. "Master!We must start now!"

* * *

Hermione fingered the little trunks tucked safely in her pocket, and found herself in the hazy darkness of the Leaky Cauldron. She kept her head down to avoid the curious gazes around her, wondering why the poor girl was sniffling and red eyed sitting in a pub.

Before the deal—the _unspeakable_, Hermione had now christened it—she had lived with Harry and Ginny. But even then, she had been planning to move out. The couple had always been a little too much for her. And now...and now, it would be much worse. She didn't want to go back there.

But where else could she go. She leaned back in her chair as a table of drunks near her hailed and cheered.

Ron. Ron would let her in, but he would be too smug about it. Too happy that Draco had turned out exactly how he had wanted him to. Hermione didn't want that. Hermione didn't want to let Ron believe he was right because he wasn't.

But again, where could she go?

She rubbed her eyes tiredly beneath the curtain of hair and fought a yawn. The sky outside was getting darker.

"Hermione?"

_No, not now._ Hermione put her head on the table, and closed her eyes. _I don't want to see him._

It was always a fanciful wish for the boy to chase after the girl, but Hermione despised it. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to hear him and his pathetic excuses. Because she knew what she heard-what she saw.

She felt the table shake, and heard the scrape of a chair in front of her. "Hermione?" the voice repeated. And it was only then that the voice wasn't Draco's. She lifted her head up to peek at the intruder.

Then, she promptly lay back down. "Blaise," she acknowledged weakly.

"Are you okay?" Blaise watched the girl he loved in front of him shrug. "What happened?"

"The _unspeakable."_

"The what?"

"Deal's off I guess," Hermione said in barely a whisper. "I don't know."

"What did you say?" he asked, not quite hearing clearly.

She lifted her head up, and it was then that Blaise saw the state she was in. He reached out for her, but thought better of it last minute and pulled back. "Deal's off," she repeated. "He chose her."

"Her?"

"Steph came back."

"When?"

"Before."

"Now?"

"Now what?" Hermione sighed.

"What what?"

Hermione sighed. "Steph came back. Draco chose Steph. The plan is out of the bag. Lucius and Narcissa probably hate me now. And I have nowhere to go."

"Steph came back," Blaise repeated.

Hermione nodded.

"Draco chose Steph."

She nodded again.

"Draco _chose _Steph."

She nodded solemnly.

"Bastard."

Hermione couldn't even laugh. Blaise frowned.

"You need a place to stay?" He stood up and offered his hand.

Hermione stared at the hand for a moment. Then, nodded shyly and accepted the hand. "Yes."

As she entered the Zabini mansion, she felt that sort of nostalgic feeling. It reminded her too much of the Malfoy manor. She wanted to forget about it. She wanted to forget all about the last month.

"Reminds you of stuff right?" Blaise asked knowingly.

Hermione shrugged. "It'll pass right?" Even though she knew the answer.

"Soon," Blaise said. Both knew it was a lie.

They walked in comfortable silence through the halls. Hermione figured she should ask some questions to keep up conversation like whether he lived alone? But she didn't have the heart to.

She looked over at Blaise, who quickly shifted his gaze away from her. She sighed inwardly. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Hermione?"

She turned to face him. "Yes?" she asked softly.

"You settle in. I'm going to...you know...go and buy some stuff."

"Some stuff?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. She shook her head and pushed open the door.

"My house is sadly unequipped for guests."

Hermione shrugged and entered the room. "Don't go finding him Blaise. Please?"

"I won't."

"He made his choice. Don't go."

"I won't."

Hermione turned to him and Blaise felt his heart split. She looked so tired. She looked like she was trying too hard to be strong—because that was who Hermione was.

Blaise hated Draco for doing this to her.

He watched her nod briefly before he turned around and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the couch, and put his head between his knees, fighting the desperate urge raging inside of him to find the bastard.

"Blaise?" he heard Hermione call.

"I'm not going," he called back. "Not that I don't want to," he mumbled.

* * *

"Master, master!" Moxie screeched the moment she apparated back into the room.

Draco popped up. "Do you know where she is?"

Moxie nodded feverishly.

"Well..."

"Well what Master Draco?"

"Well where IS she?" he yelled, frustrated.

"Miss sais that when Master yells at Moxie and Moxie don't like it, Moxie should say something. So, Master Draco, Moxie don't like Master Draco yelling."

Draco fell onto the bed and buried his head on the pillow. "Please Moxie, just tell me."

"Moxie must wait for the words."

"The words?"

"The words," she affirmed.

"The words. The words. Damn Granger." He shook his head. "I'm sorry Moxie. Now please tell me where she is."

The house elf turned to face the window as she listed the events with her stout finger."Well, Moxie heard from Spikey, who heard from Jolly, who works at the Zabini Manor, that Master Zabini brought Miss home today."

"So Hermione is at Blaise's."

Moxie nodded. And as she turned around, the room was empty.

* * *

It was summer night-time—which meant it was well past 9. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

He heard the steps on the stairs before he saw her.

He felt the weight on the couch before he looked up.

"How are you holding up" He asked.

She shrugged. "Out of sight, out of mind." But Blaise could clearly see that Draco, was in fact, not out of her mind at all.

Blaise had never pined for a girl before. But he knew that that was exactly what he was doing for Hermione. He was pining for her. You do not choose who you love, and he hated that fact, because he had to love someone who didn't love him back.

He watched Hermione as she closed her eyes. She seemed tired. Physically and emotionally.

Her stomach grumbled, and it was then that Hermione realized she had never really eaten anything for dinner that night.

And with the thought of dinner, the events came rushing back again. Dinner. Steph. Draco. Narcissa. Lucius.

"Do—do you have a-any fo—" she choked. "food?" She struggled out. She didn't really want to eat. She didn't think she could get any food to settle in her stomach anyways.

Blaise silently stood up and headed to the kitchen. As he left, Hermione felt the tears leak once again. Why couldn't she stop crying? She was never one to cry.

She wiped the away as fast as they came, never allowing any to roll down her cheeks. Allowing that would be like admitting defeat. And damn, Hermione never lost. Except, she guessed, when it came to Dr—the _unspeakable._

She heard the doorbell ring, and heard a muffled man's voice outside calling.

Blaise heard it too, on his trek to the kitchen. He veered towards the front doors, figuring who was there.

So...he didn't have to go find the bastard. The bastard had come calling for him.

Maybe it was his selfish side. Maybe it was some sort of sick hope that if Hermione never saw _him_ again, she would see Blaise. Actually _see_ Blaise. So when Hermione came wandering out of the living room, he assured her it was fine and insisted she return, only opening the door until she was out of view.

He slipped outside, refusing to let Draco enter.

"Blaise," Draco said relieved. "You'll let me see her right."

"Bastard," Blaise replied coolly.

"Blaise, please don't do this now." Draco tried to climb the steps to get to the door, but Blaise pushed him out of the way.

"What did I tell you Draco? What did I tell you?" Blaise prodded angrily, never looking back to see the door not shut properly.

"What did you tell me?" He asked dumbly.

Blaise threw his hands up frustrated. "I said I'd give you _one _chance Draco. _One _chance. Don't you know the meaning of _one_? You blew it."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "No," he began.

"Yes, you did. You blew it."

"Okay fine, but—"

"There are no _but's _Draco. You blew it. I like her Draco. Hell, I love her. And I was foolish to let you have her. But I thought that would make her happy, and that's what I wanted," he yelled.

"I can make her happy! I will!"

"But you didn't," Blaise said quietly—threateningly. He narrowed his eye and poked his friend in the chest. "Maybe I'm happy that you blew it. But I never wanted to see her hurt like the way she is because of you."

"I know, and I'm sorry!"

"I'm not letting you see her."

"It's not your decision!" Draco protested, rising a step.

Blaise took a step down. He spoke in a low voice. "And you think if I let her choose, she would talk to you? I don't think so Draco."

And Draco knew it was true too.

"Why don't you go back to Steph Draco. You chose her."

"Seeing as how you were there right? I didn't choose Steph. I chose Hermione. I'm choosing Hermione."

"She doesn't believe that."

"Then let me tell her."

"No."

"Why not?" he yelled.

_Because she might go back to you. Because she might leave me. _"Because you'll hurt her again," he lied.

"I won't."

Blaise scoffed, and pushed Draco down a step. "Now why, Draco, would I believe that."

"Because I love her."

"What?—"

"I love her."

"You can't."

Draco looked past him. "I do," he said quietly.

Blaise looked up sharply. "Leave," he said simply, in a voice that rivalled Draco's in coldness.

"I'm not going to leave Blaise. I need to see her."

Both men heard the rumblings of thunder roar dangerously close.

"Suit yourself," Blaise said simply before turning on his heel.

"I know you do too Blaise, and I'm sorry," Draco said quietly.

Blaise shrugged, and opened the door. He stepped inside and shut it behind him. He ran a hand through his dark hair, and was startled by a voice to the side of him.

"Blaise."

He turned slowly. _No ,_his mind pleaded. But it was. Hermione stood there, leaning against the door, and with one look, it wasn't hard to figure out she had heard.

"Hermione," Blaise pleaded.

Her heart pounded as she wondered whether to go outside or not. She didn't know whether to believe him or not. But looking at Blaise, pleading her with his expression...maybe because the expression was so similar to her own that it struck her deep down.

She let him lead her back to the living room, but didn't sit with him. It was oddly silent in that room, with Hermione looking outside every other minute.

Eventually, the loud splattering of rain surrounded them. Both people looked up. Hermione bit her lip, her heart twisting.

She could imagine Draco—Draco, who said he loved her—outside, soaked in the rain. Draco...Draco loved her? The idea was absurd. The idea was surreal. The idea...Her heart twisted again.

Finally, he broke the silence.

"Is Draco still outside?"

Hermione nodded briefly. She could catch glimpses of him through the curtains. His head hung, soaked with rain. Curiousity killed the cat, and maybe it would kill her too. But she needed to know. She needed to not life with the 'what if's and the 'what could be's in her life.

"I..I want to go outside Blaise. I want to talk to him."

**REVIEW! This chapter was unbelievably hard to write. just cause ideas never came. and so ****yeah.**


	31. Not So Much Singing In The Rain

**Sorry for the wait. Again! :( I know! I know!**

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews I have received for the last chapter and all the chapters to this date. I will change the names of the chappies 29 and 30 soon once I remember. No more dallying. On I go!**

**Not So Much Singing In The Rain**

Her insides twisted into a sickly knot, squeezing and pulling within her as she stood behind the door—her hand on the knob. Blaise didn't come with her to the door, nor had she expected him to. Her hand slipped off the doorknob as she twisted around slightly to see the entrance to the sitting room Blaise was in. She began to take a step towards it when a voice spoke within her head.

_You're a Gryffindor, _it chided, _show a little courage._

And before the rush of courage could recede, she turned around and threw open the door. There was no going back now.

Draco, sitting at the steps, whipped his head around, his clinging wet hair swinging. She stared at him numbly. For an instance, neither moved. Hermione could feel the chilling wind around her, although she was sheltered within the house.

He stumbled upright, his hand weakly gripping the railing. He turned to face her. They were steps away. The rain continuously soaked through his body. Hermione wanted to reach out to him and pull him to shelter, hug him until he was warm, and hold him as long as her heart desired—which was a long long time.

He struggled to find his voice.

"Hermione," his voice carried softly and coarsely.

Through some unearthly miracle, she managed to get her dry throat to produce some sound. "Oh," she muttered. Draco hurt to see the regret of coming out showing distinctly on her face. "You.."

Draco looked directly at her face, searching for her eyes. She cast them downwards, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"You should go," she said softly. "You'll catch something." Which was, entirely, not at all what she had come here to say. And he damned well knew it too.

He watched her cast him one last, quick, look before turning around, her hand reaching blindly for the door behind her. Could he just let her walk away? What chance would he have to see her after this? What reason would he have to see her?

Draco, albeit tired, pounded the steps two at a time, reaching the door mere seconds before it shut. He wrenched it open, as she gasped. He clasped his hand around her wrist, in appearance 

forcefully but truly, it was rather gentle. Lightly, without needing much pressure, he pulled her out the door and taut against his body. "You don't mean that."

For a moment, she didn't react, and he used that time to put his arms around her, holding her tightly as if the world was trying to pull her away from him. He treasured the moment, and forgot about the fact that they were fighting, that she was running from him, that they were outside Blaise's mansion, that the rain was pounding on them.

Her senses were overpowered with the presence of him so close to her body. She could feel him. She could smell him. She could sense him. She heard his fast, steady heartbeat as her face buried against his chest. She could feel hers beating the same way. He overwhelmed her, and she didn't like it one bit. Perhaps that last bit was a lie.

Her brain turned to mush, and her thoughts flew away. She missed him. She missed him so so much.

However, eventually, she regained some sense. She battled the stinging tears in her eyes as her hands curled into small fists.

Here was the man that had teased and taunted her for years and years throughout school. Here was the man that had played with her feelings. Here was the man that had chosen another girl over her. It didn't matter that she had known the probability of this happening was always high. She shouldn't be hugging him. She should be pushing him away.

She pounded on his chest with false effort, her feeble punches barely anything against his hard body. "Let. Me. Go," she ground out.

Draco looked down. She fit so perfectly against him, how had he not noticed it before? His arms around her slackened as he gently kissed the top of her head, sending tingling waves down to the soles of both their feet. "I'll never let you go," he whispered with conviction, before fully releasing her.

She stumbled back, shocked. "D-Draco."

He looked up, and even through the situation, managed a small half-hearted smirk. How typically him.

And as she looked at him, she realized that she would never want anyone but him. He challenged her. He made her laugh. He...none of that was important. To put it simply—one look from him, on touch from him, could and would always make time stop in her world.

"Let me go," she pleaded emotionally, taking another step back. _Let me free of this feeling for you. Because I can't live like this, _she wanted to say.

He reached out and grabbed her hand. "You don't want me to let you go," he said, convincing himself, reassuring himself. "You don't," he continued adamantly.

"You don't understand," Hermione cried, tugging at her arm. Her tears fell now, mingling with the rain. He could still see them. Could still distinguish them. It was torture.

And it was torture for her too. To see him so close to her. To realize that this may be the last time. "You don't want me Draco. You have St—Steph. Go back to her like I know you will."

Draco shook his head, even as she said it, even as she finished saying it. "I won't," he said simply. _Ask me why, _his eyes pleaded her.

She read them, like she had always been able to. "W-," she sobbed, "why?" she breathed.

The wind carried the word to him.

He tugged her close to him, and looked down at her. "Because I love you. Because I care about you. Because I've fallen in love with you."

She looked up at him, her chocolate eyes mulling over his words. He waited for her to accept his words, to process them. She did—the latter at least. "You're lying," she said finally, her head shaking, her hair flinging from side to side, slapping his face.

He lifted one of his hands, and held her chin to stop her. "I'm not lying. I'm not going to say I'd never lie to you Hermione, but I'm not lying. Not this time. Not about something like this."

"I don't believe you."

Her words stabbed into his heart. But he understood where she came from. What had he given her to base her trust on him. Kisses with no promise. He couldn't see how she had fallen for him. Not that he would complain.

"I," he said, stabbing a finger in his chest, "love you. You. Hermione Granger. I don't know how much more I can say to make you believe me. It may have taken me some time for me to realize it. But I truly love you. And probably have for a long time."

He could see the calculation in them, the thinking in them. He could see the confusion, and the uncertainty circling in her eyes. And he did what any man would do if he held the girl he loved in his arms, her face in his hands, while he professed his love. He leaned down and kissed her. He kissed her until she was breathless. Until her mind stopped working, and her hands wound up in his hair, tugging and pulling with emotion and power equivalent to his own. He kissed her until he could get it through her head that he loved her. He kissed her until she could see his love; feel his love; and want his love.

It was a difficult thing to do—pulling away from such a kiss. But he figured having her right there and then on the steps of his best friend's (who happened to love her too) wasn't the best idea.

But as he looked into her eyes after the kiss, he was no more confusion, no more thinking.

She smiled up at him, hesitantly, and dropped her hands from his hair to his shoulders, around his neck. She looked at him for another moment, before leaning on her toes and kissing him again. Not 

as hungrily as before, but with equal emotion. Because this time, she was telling him that she loved him too. And as she kissed him, she could feel his smile grow. She could feel her own smile match his.

Hermione felt like she was in her very own fairytale. Not that she was a princess. Draco certainly wasn't much of a prince. Maybe he would be the evil one. Maybe they were in the twisted type of fairytales where the evil princes got the girls. Nevertheless, Hermione would never want him to change, because she liked him—no loved him—just the way he was. It was just that, the way things worked out seemed to be just a little too perfect. Too unrealistic.

Maybe.

She supposed that maybe in a fairytale, the sky would stop raining on her. The thunder behind them roared periodically like a beast. Zeus must not be in a happy mood.

Still, it seemed a little too good to be true.

"Stop thinking," she heard Draco whisper against her lips. But she still felt his amused smile.

"How are you still so war when you've been out here for hours?"

"Well I'm glad you know it's been hours. Why didn't you come out sooner?" he teased.

"I'm a sadist. I wanted you to suffer," Hermione shrugged, smiling.

He rubbed the raindrops off her cheeks. "You suffered," he murmured, imagining her tears.

"So did you," she pointed out.

"I was to blame," he shrugged. "Did I ever say that I'm sorry? Because I am."

"No," Hermione conceded. "But I do recall you promising that whether you said sorry or not, you would probably not mean it," she teased, referring back to one of their first conversations at the manor.

"Well...you did say you would never kiss me."

"Look where that ended up," Hermione acknowledged dryly.

"All jokes aside, I really do mean it."

"Apology accepted then."

Draco frowned. Hermione shook her head, reached up, and tugged at his chin, forcing him to nod. Draco rolled his eyes, but let her anyways.

"Draco?"

"Mm?" Draco said, his chin resting on her head.

She wriggled her way out of his grasp. "I..I won't go back if Stephanie is still there. She can't be there...I don't want to...I won't..." she struggled awkwardly. "It's just that..."

"I get it."

"I just don't want to be like.."

"I get it."

"It's not that I have anything personal against her. It's..."

"I choose you. I chose you. She knows it's over. It was over the moment you flew from the table."

Hermione looked up at him, surprised. "You promise?"

He nodded.

"Okay," she said simply. And again, he marvelled at the trust she put in him. She hugged him, neither minding the rain.

"Stay here tonight," Draco said, his words surprising himself. "Stay here tonight until things at the manor.."

She nodded knowingly.

They both comfortably enjoyed the relative silence, interrupted only by occasional roars. And Draco wondered what the future held for them.

Hermione, with her school for one matter. He would never dream of stopping her from going.

He wondered then, if he was supposed to ask her to be his girlfriend since technically...he hadn't done that before. Where did that put them?

Draco looked up, and through a window, he saw Blaise watch them sadly—resignedly.

He owed that man a lot. And what he didn't know was that he would owe the man much more in the future.

Nonetheless, he nodded briefly.

Blaise didn't return the favour. He merely closed his curtains and turned away.

He breathed in deeply. It..it was time to move on. Blaise was sure it wasn't going to be an easy task, because he had never felt quite so strongly about a girl. But Hermione. Hermione loved him. And Blaise accepted that—not that he liked it.

But the next time, he mused to himself, in the next life, Blaise wasn't going to let Draco win again. Because Blaise hated losing.

And that night, he went to bed with Hermione firmly on his mind, as much as he didn't want that to be the case.

Getting over someone was never as easy as it looked. Damn.

And that was something all four of the young adults knew very well. Blaise. Hermione. Draco. And even Steph.

Damn.

**Ok. How was that? Too cheesy and fluffy?:P probably.**

**Now...I would just like to mention. The drama is hardly over. One more little surprise left for you guys.**

**Some asked about how many chapters left. I think...at least 4(including epilogue) at most 6.**

**I just wanted to say also that Narcissa and Lucius' roles are going to be much less significant over the last chapters. It's going to be much more..Draco/Hermione orientated.**

**REVIEW!**


	32. Ten Steps Forward, 10 000 Steps Back

**Soo...I just haven't really been in a writing mood. Cause when I write a chapter, I usually go into like a trance: but it hasn't been happening, so I'm sorry for the slow updates.**

**But, here it is! **

**I honestly can't believe theres only a few more chapters left! You won't like me much at the end of this chapter. Let me tell you that. But trust me on this okay? Okay! (because it's not going to change either way ahahha)**

* * *

**Ten Steps Forward, 10 000 Steps Back**

Hermione slipped on a simple tank top and jeans, while attempting to brush her damp hair. It wasn't an easy task, but one could say that Hermione liked to take on challenges.

_What,_ she thought to herself, _did that have to do with anything going through her mind at that moment?_

She shook her head, and adjusted a thin headband so that her hair was tucked away neatly.

"I'm sorry Narcissa, Lucius," she spoke aloud. She scratched her head. "I imagine—no, I know—you must be terribly disappointed in me."

She tucked some hair behind her ear, out of habit. Something she did when she was nervous. What was she going to say? How was she going to apologize.

"I'm disappointed in me too," Hermione acknowledged, before cringing. How lame did that sound? "I'm a fool. I shouldn't have done that. I should have used some sense. Clearly this whole freaking thing was a bad idea! Why did I agree to this?! Wouldn't my life have just been _dandy_ if I didn't agree to this outrageous thing? Yes it would have. I can imagine it now. I'm going to _kill_ Harry. And your son? I thought he had sense too!" Hermione vented to her heart's desire, her words spilling out at the speed of light, leaving herself a little breathless.

She breathed out slowly, calming herself down. "I understand our foolish actions must have caused you some amount of hurt—" she paused.

What if they had been relieved?

"—or at least some amount of shock," she amended. There. That was safer. "Maybe I should explain somewhat our intentions, because they were never meant to...affect...anyone. Affect like..well of course they would affect people. But not emotionally. Do you know what I mean?"

Hermione groaned softly. "I'm just sorry," she ended lamely, with a sad shrug of her shoulders.

"Well." There was a click of a tongue. "I'm not so sure they will _know what you mean."_

Hermione turned her head to face Blaise, leaning casually against the door frame, one hand in his pocket. He looked every bit the charmer, and a completely different Blaise than the one she had 

seen last night. It was a comfort to her in a way, to see the familiar Blaise. Call it selfish. But she never wanted to have to see such an uncharacteristically hurt and vulnerable Blaise again because she didn't want to feel the guilt associated with it.

With Blaise, it was so easy to forget the feelings he had for her, because she had never imagined him to have the capabilities to hold such feelings. Was that mean?

"I know," Hermione said finally, snapping out of her thoughts. She smiled sheepishly. "I just don't know what to say."

Blaise nodded understandingly, which sort of made Hermione hate him just a little bit. Because she caught that small flash of hurt flicker behind his eye, and the guilt flooded in her. Why couldn't he be like normal people—who would either avoid her like the plague or act coldly civil to her? She deserved that. She didn't deserve this.

Blaise strode into the room, seating himself a small distance away from her. Smart move Blaise. Smart move.

"Just say what you feel Hermione. They'll forgive you either way," he said softly.

Hermione shook her head. "You didn't see Lucius at the table that day. You didn't see Narcissa." She frowned. "I can't face them anymore."

"Remember when I visited the manor a few weeks ago?"

Hermione nodded, confused.

"Even then," Blaise continued on, "I could tell they both absolutely adored you. And they won't just stop all of a sudden."

"They hate me now," Hermione exclaimed.

"They do not."

"How do you know that?"

"And how do _you _know they hate you?" Blaise paused, waiting for her to answer. When she couldn't, he smiled. "See? You don't. And there's only one way to find out."

"But what do I say?!"

"Say sorry. And I'll bet you anything they'll forgive you."

She looked up at him slowly and shuffled over beside him. "Blaise," she began, capturing his attention. "You've been..all I could ask for in a friend. And I don't want to lose you...Thank you so much..."

He put his strong arms around her, something that he swore just moment before making his presence known that he would not do. _Do not touch her, _he had chided himself, because then you'll lose all control.

She leaned against him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. "I'm sorry," she whispered. And they both knew what she was saying sorry for.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. "Don't be," he said simply.

He released her, and that was that.

* * *

"When will she get out of the house," Lucius hissed, his head tilting ever so slightly towards his wife as he narrowed his eyes at the girl.

Steph could hear vague murmurs from the general direction of where Draco's parents were and could feel the goose-bumps standing on the back of her neck from Lucius' chilling glares. She sped up her walking.

"I would just like to walk up to that girl and tell her to get out of my house," he continued on, sneering.

"Now dear," Narcissa admonished. She shook her head slightly and gazed at Steph for a moment. "You must say _please!"_

"_Please, _get out of my house now,_"_ Lucius corrected dutifully.

"Better," Narcissa praised. She waited a moment before gesturing impatiently. "Well?"

"Well what?" Lucius asked, never taking his eyes off her, as if doing that would allow her to scurry back to her room. Draco had immediately removed her from his own personal room.

Narcissa turned to her husband. "Well, go do it already!"

"But..." he stuttered. He teetered on his heels.

"Lou!"

At the prompt, Lucius stepped forwards. Steph turned to face him as the noise brought the movement to her attention.

Nobody spoke for a moment. Then Draco entered the room, his expression pleased. Actually, it was more like an...ecstatic insanely happy expression. He had adorned that expression the moment he had returned to the manor late last night.

"Well get on with it!" Lucius barked towards Steph loudly. She immediately pivoted and hurried out of the room, presumably to bring down another bag.

Narcissa had kindly told the house elves not to help Steph with the bags, saying that it was under Lucius' orders of course.

Not that they wouldn't listen to her. It was just that—

"Why do you always make me be the bad guy Cissy?" Lucius said, turning back towards the wife.

"It's your reputation," she said simply.

"You _made _that my reputation," he pointed out correctly.

She changed the subject. "Now why didn't you tell her to leave already?!"

"I couldn't."

"You couldn't? Why not?"

Draco cleared his throat behind them. "He couldn't because that would be rude, and mean."

"She made Hermione go away!" Narcissa declared with a finger in the air. She pointed that finger towards her son. "That, son, deserves rude and mean."

"But," Draco said, pointing his own finger out towards his father, "is not what _Hermione _would have wanted, and father knew that."

Lucius nodded fervently. Then paused. "I did?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, I did." He was _not _being a coward. He pointed his finger towards Narcissa, completing the circle. "You wouldn't want to disappoint _Hermione _now would you."

"Well," Narcissa said, hesitantly, as she twisted her hands. "If Hermione wouldn't..."

"Hermione wouldn't," Draco put in.

"Fine then. I like Hermione," Narcissa admitted.

Lucius nodded.

"What that means," Narcissa said, deciphering Lucius' nod, "is that he likes her too."

Lucius neither denied or affirmed the accusation.

Draco shrugged. He didn't care as much as he should. Because with this girl, it didn't matter whether his parents liked her. They couldn't stop him from being with her. Although it was a nice bonus. "Be nice mother, father. She's leaving already."

"I'll be nice as soon as Hermione comes back," she hinted without shame towards her son, which prompted beaming from Draco. "And as soon as your father stops pointing at me."

Lucius immediately dropped his hand, and stared at Draco's.

He took the hint and dropped his own, looking at his mother's pointing finger.

She dropped it as well, smoothing her dress over. "Very well," she spoke airily. "Now I assume Hermione is coming back."

"She is right?" Lucius put in, rather eagerly. Draco stared at him, and Lucius cleared his throat. "Not that I would...care...but Bob misses her! Where did Bob go anyways?" He said, awkwardly trying to change the conversation avenue.

Draco let it slip, on account to simply answer the question about his love. "She's coming back as soon as Steph leaves—" He paused, a thought coming to mind. "Father, hurry and prompt her to leave faster!" he whispered as Steph returned into the room.

"Why do you both always make _me _the bad guy?" Lucius complained quietly, before barking out another 'hurry up'.

* * *

Hermione craned her neck up to see the grand architecture of Gringotts, admiring it. She felt a string of people pushing her in both directions, a steady flow heading in and out. She joined the wave of people heading in, and soon found herself in front of one of the many counters.

"I would like to make a withdrawal," she said clearly. She braced herself as a head popped up from the other side of the counter, and readied herself for the squeaky drawl of the creature.

Not that she had anything against the goblins. Their voices were just a little too..cranky sounding.

"Who would you," the goblin dropped his voice lower, "beeee?"

They could easily be in operas or musicals, she mused.

"Hermione Granger. And I have my key," she said, knowing what the next question would be, having been here to look at her rather empty vault enough times.

"Very well. Come with," again the pitch lowering, "meee."

And the next thing she knew, she was standing at the steps before her vault.

"Key," the goblin demanded.

She dropped the key into his hand, watching as his long fingers wrapped around it. She marvelled at the workings of the security as the vault unlocked itself. As the complex system worked itself out, Hermione applauded herself mentally for coming up with the idea to buy Narcissa and Lucius a small present as an offering. Her depleting bank account still had some money left in it.

And some, was an understatement, as the vault opened.

There had..never been this many gold coins in her vault before. She stepped back. "Are you sure this is the right one?" she asked the goblin beside her, stunned.

"Yes miss Hermione Granger."

She reached into the vault and fingered the shining galleons. "Is..Is there any way you could tell me how this got here?"

The goblin nodded. "It was recently transferred here from vault 1772."

"Which would belong to..."

"The young mister Malfoy's."

She stumbled back and dropped the coins. So Draco had ended up giving her the payment anyways. The idea, oddly, had never crossed her mind. She bit her lip. It was such a sweet thing to do. And she would thank him. But she couldn't keep this money.

She had never completed the job. And technically, if not completing the job meant she could have him instead of the 10 000 galleons, she would take it in a heartbeat. Not that she was giving up her dreams. She would just find another way to earn it.

No, Hermione wouldn't take the money. However, she did grab a small handful of coins and pocket them.

She would just have to talk to Draco later. Hopefully, she mused, tonight.

It was funny, how just as she was thinking about going back to the manor, thinking about Draco, thinking about Stephanie leaving, she would run into the girl exciting the bank.

"Um," Hermione said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Hi."

"Hi," Steph responded coolly.

Hermione strained to hear Steph through the noise. Again, standing at the entrance of the bank, she felt the push and pull of people bumping into her. Funnily enough, Steph seemed oddly unmoving.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. Although it was unnecessary, she felt the need to get it out.

"Why are you sorry," she said.

Steph stood there, defeat already in her heart. She lost. Before, alone in the guest bedroom of the Malfoy Manor, she didn't understand why Draco would choose the fool over her. She couldn't get it. She didn't get it. She never thought that they would ever end as a couple. Draco and Steph. Steph and Draco.

But it was over. He said so. He made it clear.

And...it actually hurt. Because she loved him.

She had never understood. Why didn't he love her back? Why did her love _her?_

But in that very moment. She understood. She saw, albeit briefly, what he saw in _her. _And it made the defeat sink deeper into her. The hurt magnifying.

And in that moment. Steph hated the girl. She hated the girl for stealing Draco. She hated the girl for being kind to her. She hated the girl because she had _hired _her. That was a hell of a lot of irony in itself.

She really didn't know what made her say it. She really didn't mean to. Okay, she meant to. But..just for a moment. Maybe it was the hate mixed with the hurt urged her to go on. Maybe it was the inner bitch she always knew resided in herself.

But she said it. And it didn't matter if she regretted it the moment the words escaped. They couldn't come back.

"Are you here getting money for a new place? Where are you staying now?"

"I..I don't get it," Hermione stuttered, her hands dropping to her sides.

"Well, I guess Draco and I wouldn't mind if you stayed at the Manor until you find a place."

For a moment, Hermione couldn't speak. "Draco and I?" she echoed dumbly.

Steph nodded, lying easily.

"You're...you're not moving out?"

"Now why would I be doing that? What on _earth _gave you that idea? If you'll excuse me." Steph nodded towards the bank, and Hermione stumbled aside, getting pushed along with the crowd out of the area and down the steps in a daze. And all she could here was _Draco and I. _

Steph looked back as she entered the building and gulped. What had she done?

* * *

She tore through the entrance of the Zabini mansion like a tornado.

_Draco and I. Draco and I. _

She stormed into her room angrily, and slammed the door with force behind her. She felt relieved to hear the resounding echoing because for a moment, it blocked out the words echoing in her mind.

_Draco and I._

She groaned, and let out a frustrated grunt. She threw herself onto the bed and hid under the pillow, trying to muffle out the sounds. But it only seemed to make it clearly.

_Draco and I. Draco and I._

"SHUT UP!" she screamed, bouncing to a sitting position.

She felt her cheeks, and was astounded to feel no wetness at all. No. Not astounded. Comforted. Because she wasn't going to cry anymore. She was not sad. No. She was _angry. _Angry as hell. She was going...she was going to yell at his fucking bastard face.

But as she thought of confronting him, all she could imagine was him with Steph hanging off his arms.

Love her? She didn't think so. Draco Malfoy was nothing but a lying, cheating, stupid bastard. She should have known.

_Draco and I._

Hermione bounded down towards her suitcase and tore through her things, trying to find a piece of parchment and her quill. He had one hell of a letter coming for him. She could imagine it already.

_Draco and I. _

She threw her hands to her temples and tapped them hard. "Get out of my head," she screeched, before returning to her search.

Her mind, unwillingly, flew to last night.

_He tugged her close to him, and looked down at her. "Because I love you. Because I care about you. Because I've fallen in love with you."_

_She looked up at him, her chocolate eyes mulling over his words. He waited for her to accept his words, to process them. She did—the latter at least. "You're lying," she said finally, her head shaking, her hair flinging from side to side, slapping his face._

_He lifted one of his hands, and held her chin to stop her. "I'm not lying. I'm not going to say I'd never lie to you Hermione, but I'm not lying. Not this time. Not about something like this."_

"_I don't believe you."_

_Her words stabbed into his heart. But he understood where she came from. What had he given her to base her trust on him. Kisses with no promise. He couldn't see how she had fallen for him. Not that he would complain._

"_I," he said, stabbing a finger in his chest, "love you. You. Hermione Granger. I don't know how much more I can say to make you believe me. It may have taken me some time for me to realize it. But I truly love you. And probably have for a long time."_

Hurt flooded her, but she easily converted it to anger. He had her going there last night. But not anymore.

She remembered the kiss. Hell, he should be an actor.

She fought the tears, and growled. Fuck him.

She felt her fingers clasp onto something paper and pulled it out. "Erudstrass," she read. Her fingers curled around the paper.

What, she thought slowly, would be the perfect revenge against a bastard like him?

She apparated outside Gringotts, and hurried past the entrance where the conversation with Steph had taken place. Passing by, she heard every word clearly again.

_Draco and I. Draco and I._

That pushed her to walk faster. She threw herself against the same counter she had been at that morning, the acceptance letter scrunched up in her hand.

She stuffed it across the counter, along with her key. "I'm Hermione Granger. Here's my key. I want 10 000 galleons transferred from my account to Erudstrass _now._"

**REVIEW! Hate me? Love me?**

**Bad chap? Good Chap?**

**REVIEEWWW.**

**Last chapter took a while to get about the usual amounts of reads!**

**Please people! Read and REVIEW!:)**

**Ill love you forever. Look how long his chappie is! PLEASE?:D**


	33. Confessions of a Broken Heart

**A few people commented that Hermione wouldn't go that insanely mad, but I guess sometimes people can lose a little reason too you know? In this chappie, you can see she has some doubts about it, sort of like reason creeping back into her.**

**Well, some people didn't really like the last chapter, but I don't know. It was planned from before and I plan to finish it this way. Soo...I hope you guys continue reading it!**

**Anyways.**

**I'm going to be completely honest. I've written the chapter after this one already.**

**And both these chapters scare me. Because its near the end of the story and I want the end to be like...great you know what I mean. But. yeah. Here goes!**

* * *

**Confessions of a Broken Heart**

She was...overwhelmed. That was the one word Hermione could come up with to describe her feelings as of that very moment as she stood at the entrance of the great structural buildings of the magical university, Erudstrass.

Overwhelmed—that was not the way she should be feeling though, and she knew it.

She should be excited. Ecstatic. Delirious with...something. Just not simply overwhelmed.

Because overwhelmed was so...mediocre. Neither happy nor sad. Just...overwhelmed.

She should be happy. Why wasn't she?

_Because you need to talk to Draco,_ her mind told her. But she stubbornly ignored it.

Her dream. This—this was her dream. She was going to _live _her dream. This was what she was meant to do. Hermione knew it. She felt it. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to step over the threshold of the main entrance.

"You're here early. School doesn't start for another two weeks."

Realizing the words were directed at her, she turned to face the boy speaking to her.

She smiled. It turned out more like a grimace.

_Happy, _she told herself sternly, before brightening the smile another notch. Better.

She shrugged, aware that she had yet to give an answer.

"Yeah, me too," the boy said sheepishly. She guessed that he had assumed she had come here early because she was too excited to stay at home. How wrong he was. She had planned to spend the last few weeks of summer with Dra—

About that...

Her anger had slowly subsided, leaving only a little left in her. She wasn't so much angry as she was..conflicted. Because although she knew she should confront him, she didn't want to. Because he scared her. Because she realized that the idea of Steph still living there was entirely believable given the fact that he was Draco Malfoy. She was scared to trust him because she couldn't understand him.

She couldn't exactly describe the feelings within her.

He had said he loved her. _Loved. _But there were moments sometimes where she couldn't bring herself to believe it.

No. She was not thinking about him. She was not going to consider that maybe this wasn't the best idea. She wasn't going to let the fact that he had yet had a chance to defend himself bother her. No. She was tired of being logical. Somewhat.

"I'm so excited to be here," the boy went on. . It was only then that Hermione realized he had been saying something before. She finally looked at him. Really looked. He was...dark haired. Not blonde like Draco. He had a lanky, lean build. Not muscular. Rather...twiggy. Completely unlike Draco.

Draco..Draco was—Draco was banished from her thoughts.

"Me too," she answered automatically.

He eyed her carefully. "You don't look too excited."

"Nervous," she said easily as an excuse, hoping he would accept it. He nodded understandingly, to her relief.

_Maybe she should talk to him. Draco. _

"First year," the boy admitted

"Me too," she replied quickly, finding it weird that after 6 years of growing in Hogwarts as a wizard, she was back to being a first year.

_But he lied to her didn't he? Why should she give him the time of day?_

"Where are you from?" the boy, James, she now found out, asked.

"A little town—oh, Hogwarts," she said, nodding when he gestured towards her bags. He picked them up, and she hesitated.

"I'm from America." He looked back towards her. "You coming?"

_But what if Draco didn't lie?_

Hermione bit her lip, and looked backwards for some unknown reason. The path to the entrance, lined on both sides with gloriously beautiful trees and flowers was completely empty. Why did her heart tug at that discovery?

She couldn't help but think that maybe this was a mistake. She couldn't help but think that Draco hadn't lied, and maybe Steph had. But Hermione couldn't justify a reason why Steph would lie. Revenge? Revenge didn't seem like her.

And well, admittedly, a person like Draco was difficult to love. Trust was a hard thing for Hermione to give. It took Harry and Ron months. And it scared her to realize that it only took Draco weeks. Days, even.

"Hey person-who-has yet-to-tell me-their-name! Come on, I've had the map memorized. I could tell you where your dorm is."

She remembered at the beginning of this whole ordeal. She remembered how one day he could be nice, and the other he could revert back to his old, cold, distant self. Was this the same thing? Could he love her one day, and realize he didn't the next? Did he really love her?

The thoughts bothered her, and she shook it out of her head. She was a coward, Hermione settled, and she was fine with that if it meant it wouldn't hurt.

"Hermione," she called, jogging to catch up. "My name is Hermione Granger, and it's nice to meet you. I just got off the train, I'm tired, a little out of it, " She stuck out her hand, which he promptly shook. "And a tour would be great." Not that she didn't have the map memorized herself, because Hermione was—of course—prepared.

"Well, the first building to our right is the main hall. The one to the left of that is the library, right over there see? Biggest one in England I suppose." Hermione nodded dutifully. Actually, she knew it was the second biggest in the world. She knew everything and anything about this place. For example, she knew that the only possible way to enter this enclosed area was through the main entrance, and it was so exclusive that only staff and students could enter. There was no possible way anyone else could come into the area, as it was magically protected. She knew that there were about 2000 students only, split into 20 buildings. And those buildings were further divided into dorms with five rooms each, and those rooms well represented the excessive tuition cost. "And over there is the Draco."

Hermione's head whipped upwards, her thoughts of the school falling away. "What?" she shrieked.

He looked startled, and gave her an odd look. "The Dragon?"

"Dragon," she sighed. Not Draco.

"Yes, the symbol of Erudstrass," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world like the sky being blue, or the sun coming in the daytime.

"Yes, yes, of course."

"So do you have a boyfriend here?"

Hermione blinked. "Pardon, what was that?" She gulped.

"Do you have any friends here?" James reiterated.

Hermione rubbed her temples. She was hearing things. "No," she sighed. "Just me."

"Oh, well you could always make new friends. Everyone has been great here so far. Anyways, this is you, and I'm just at the other block."

Hermione nodded, as James gracefully handed over her bags. "Oh, and over there is my friend Drake."

Hermione nodded again, her thoughts focused on her items.

"Drake and I—"

"What?" Hermione's head snapped up angrily.

James raised his hands. "Drake," he pointed to a boy nearby, "and I..."

Hermione looked from the boy to James and back. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just...it's been stressful. Thanks." She hurried into the building, head hung, cheeks red and mind whirling. What was she thinking? What was wrong with her?

Better yet, she asked herself, who was she kidding?

But he would come look for her right?

Hermione couldn't help but look back towards the direction they had come.

* * *

Draco knocked on the massive oak doors of the Zabini manor eagerly, beaming like a child with candy.

The fact that it took ages for someone to open the door didn't faze him one bit. It just gave him some time to reminisce about the memories he had dreamed about ever single moment since Hermione and him had last been here. He was about to slip into another trance when the doors creaked open.

"What happened," was the first and only thing Blaise said as he stood at the doors of his own house.

"What do you mean what happened?" Draco asked, confused. "Where's Hermione? I came to tell her that Steph officially left the house as of two minutes ago and..."

"She's not here anymore," Blaise said shortly.

Draco stopped talking. His grey eyes flashed, and he stared at his friend. "What?"

"Well, that's what I was asking you. Because one minute she was stressing about how to apologize to your parents," Blaise rattled on, "and the next she storms out of the house with all her bags packed to go to some distant boarding school. What happened?"

Draco ran a hand through his wispy blonde hair. "I don't know." But his mind wasn't on the words he was saying. An array of emotions displayed on his face, ranging from disbelief to worry.

"Draco?" Blaise asked, seemingly realizing this.

Draco looked up. "So you mean she's not here?"

"Exactly."

"And gone."

"Gone."

Draco stood up, angry all of a sudden. "Why didn't you stop her then?! You must've known something was up! Now she's gone and I don't know why the hell she left."

Blaise stood up too, his eyes flashing with contained anger. "Why didn't I stop her? How was I to know something happened between you two lovers," he said contemptuously. "You guys fight every other day anyways," he muttered quietly. "Honestly Draco, what did you do?"

Draco looked up, his famous Malfoy temper flaring for a moment before he realized the situation Blaise was in. It wasn't an easy one. He calmed himself down. "I...I honestly don't know. The last time I saw her was on your doorstep." _And.._

"And obviously there was no fighting there," Blaise couldn't help but put in, if not a little jealously. Draco let it slip. "Maybe she's not really gone." It sounded lame even to his own ears.

"This can't be happening. What the hell?" His forehead wrinkled in thought as both his hands buried in his hair.

"Draco."

"I didn't do anything! I swear. Why is she running from me Blaise?"

"Draco. Maybe she didn't run," Blaise suggested.

"Oh god, you're right! What if she didn't? What if she's hurt? What if something happened?"

"Draco, I doubt she's physically hurt."

"Shit."

"Draco please."

"I'm going to check upstairs," Draco said suddenly, ignoring his friend.

"Why? You think she's there hiding in a closet from you or something? She's not here!" Blaise retorted, but stood to chase his friend anyways. "What you have to do Draco, is find out where she is, go talk to her, and figure out whatever misunderstanding occurred between you too."

"No!" Draco called, hating that his friend's words held reason. "No!"

"No what?! Draco!" Blaise called as he raced after his friends two steps at a time.

But no amount of yelling could stop him. However, what did stop him was the loud hesitant knocking resounding off the front doors. Draco stopped at the top of the stairs, Blaise a few steps down.

They looked at each other for a moment, and Draco felt hope flare in his chest. Was Hermione back?

He raced down the steps that he had just climbed, and threw open the front doors. Blaise, again, only a few steps behind.

And Draco came face to face with..

"I asked Narcissa. She told me you'd be here." There was hesitancy in the voice, and some urgency as well, that made Draco stop himself from slamming the door.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coolly. Although his insides were nothing but cool. Disappointment rang loudly within him.

He wanted Hermione to be at the door. Not. Not.

"I know you don't want to see me. But there's something I need to tell you. And you might hate me for it, more than you already apparently do." Sadness was evident in the voice.

"Why should I listen to you Steph?" Draco asked, as he felt Blaise make his presence known behind him.

She barely cast the other boy a glance. Instead, she lifted her head and faced Draco head on, her eyes unreadable and distant, but clear in showing that she didn't mean to leave until she got her message across. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, meeting the once familiar, yet now so foreign, grey eyes head on. She had braced herself. "It's about Hermione." And that was all that needed to be said.

"About Hermione you say?" Blaise stepped in when it appeared that Draco had lost his voice.

Steph nodded unsurely, wondering what in god's name was she doing here.

She shouldn't care. She should simply move on with her life. What did the relationship between her ex-boyfriend and her...that girl have to do with her?

She had every reason to turn around that moment and leave the house. Hell, that was exactly what she wanted to do.

So when Blaise pushed Draco aside with a small nudge and left the entrance open for her, she stepped in.

* * *

"Are you sure you won't take me back?" Steph asked semi-jokingly as the awkward silence settled in. She was seated on a comfortable and stylish black couch opposite the one that Draco was sitting in, and adjacent to the armchair that Blaise had seated himself in. A coffee table sat between them, and it put some distance between Draco and herself. It was little comfort, but something at least, because she could just imagine the anger...

"Yes," Draco said shortly. Steph shrugged automatically, but couldn't help the little crack in her heart breaking apart further.

"I have a confession to make," she said without further ado. Better to simply get it over with, she supposed. "And before I start, I know I didn't do the right thing. I'm sorry. But there's nothing I can do to turn back time. If I could, I would turn it back to before I came up with the stupid..." Draco glared. "Sorry."

"What did you do?" Blaise asked softly.

"I—" Steph clasped her hand over her mouth and looked away from the two, out the window. "Is that where you made up?" She asked, her eyes trained on the front porch. Her lips twitched sadly, as if suppressing tears.

"Steph," Draco pleaded, more kindly this time.

She turned back to him slowly. "I bumped into Hermione the other day. At Gringotts."

Blaise nodded, agreeing to the story so far. "After I talked with her, she left for the bank to get some money for...an apology gift or something of the sort she said."

Steph shrugged. "I don't know."

"What happened at Gringotts?" Draco pressed, urgency evident in his voice, even as he tried to suppress it. He felt a little of his anxiety subside, as a whole new feeling surged in him. She was safe, he figured that now. But some reason had made her run. Some reason had caused her to run _from him._

Steph bit her bottom lip and looked helplessly at the two men. "I'm sorry," she burst out.

And then Draco knew it was bad. Steph buried her head in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees. And without once looking up, she retailed the conversation to the two.

"And that's that," she said finally, a tear running down her cheek as she finally looked up.

"I could hate you right now," was all Draco said before he strode out of the room and out the doors of the house, and subsequently, Steph knew, out of her life. She let her head fall back into her hands.

"Say what you want to say to me Blaise," she finally managed, breaking from her quiet sobs. "You want to yell? Do it. You want to—"

"Why?" he asked simply, softly. Neither angry nor accusing.

She looked up, and rubbed her eyes. "Why did I do it? Or why did I confess?"

"I get why you did it. Even if you don't get it," he admitted, knowing similar thoughts had run through his head too often recently.

"Why confess then right?" she asked, mocking herself almost. "Why did you let him have her?" she asked simply.

"You just want them to be happy," she said knowingly. "I'm not a bad person Blaise."

He frowned, seeing a different side of the girl he had never tried to know. "I know," he said, and he believed it too.

"I'm just a person who's made mistakes."

"We all do."

"My first one was coming up with this damn idea."

Blaise shrugged. Maybe so. Maybe not.

Maybe so for the two of them.

Maybe not for Draco and Hermione.

But maybe..maybe was a very uncertain term.

**Review! **

**Ok, so the next chapter is going to be the last one. But its not the type of end thats like..THE END. It's the type of end that needs an epilogue to finish it, which it will have because that is planned too.**

**However, my deal is, at the end of the next chapter, you tell me whether I should name it the end, and have an epilogue, or just make the epilogue the end. :) Ok?**

**And how was this chapter. It's sort of like a lead up I think.**

**BY the way, does anyone know any part in the HP series where Hermione apologizes, like..part or page or something.**

**REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**

**Reviews would encourage faster writing:)**

**Shameless, I know, but if this gets to 1490, I'll write it IMMEDIATLY AND POST RIGHT RIGHT AWAY!**

**please?:)**


	34. Say Goodbye

**OK, I AM VERY NERVOUS ABOUT THIS CHAPTER. NO JOKE. I SWEAR IM STALLING RIGHT NOW ahaha. OK...HERE GOES.**

**My goal has been reached! 1500. Thank you so much guys. You guys are. Were. And will always be ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL.**

**Blaise and Steph...will NOT get together. Never was going to. Never will.:)**

**I tried hard to make the apology seem very...Hermione. Very difficult to get out. But I really wanted it to be her apologizing this time.**

**I hope...this ending has lived up to expectations. Its not the typical, all tied up in a bow ending so much so as...yeh I don't know. **

**Anyways, I'm wondering if anyone can help me. I want to participate in the next DMExchange, but I don't get what that is at all******** So if anyone could explain that for me:) all those like things on LiveJournal. So just an explanation:)? Hehe. Thanks!**

* * *

**Say Goodbye**

"In all my life...I have never seen a guy mope," Blaise announced the moment he stepped into the room. "Wow, you have it all. The pillows, the sappy romance DVD's...when did you get a TV anyways?"

"She-who-must-not-be-named."

"Is she the new Voldemort now?"

"Worse. Much, much worse."

"Impossible."

Draco blinked. "Anything," he said eerily, "is possible."

"Wooo," Blaise mocked, raising his hands in the air. "Dramatic." He dropeed his hands. "Or rather...moping," Blaise scoffed.

"I'm not moping," Draco mumbled.

"You, my friend," Blaise continued on, paying Draco no heed, "are definitely moping. You even have the freaking ice cream bucket out. This is called wallowing. This is called self pity. This is called—the opposite of what Draco Malfoy embodies."

"So bite me. Draco Malfoy has been left high and dry by a mean, ugly, stupid girl."

"You don't mean that," Blaise insisted, "Come on Draco, get up and find her!"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because she ran. Don't you get it? She ran from _me!_" Draco spooned some more ice cream, creamy vanilla caramel mind you, into his mouth. "I'm not going to find her."

"Oh, come _on._"

"No!"

Blaise walked over and sat beside his friend. Never in his life did he believe he would have the task of comforting Draco Malfoy while he wallowed in self pity and _moped. _And here he was. Comforting Draco Malfoy while he wallowed in self pity and moped. Who would have thought? "She didn't run from _you_ Draco."

"Well she isn't here is she? So that would leave two things. She left, or she was taken. And obviously, it was not the latter because who in their right mind would take _her_?"

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"She didn't trust me," he added childishly.

"I don't think it had so much to do with trust. I think she was scared."

Draco paused to think about it. "Why would she be scared?"

"Aren't you scared?" Blaise challenged.

"Nope," Draco said confidently.

Blaise gave him a look. "Bullshit."

Draco glared. "Okay fine, yes a little. Okay, a lot."

"See?"

"No, I don't see!" Draco complained, twirling his spoon between his fingers.

Blaise sighed again. "Did you have _any_ trouble coming to terms with the idea that she could like you?" Blaise asked knowingly.

Draco didn't respond, so Blaise went on.

"Now imagine her believing that you love her."

_Hm. It was plausible—she ran though._

"It's scary. I would be scared."

Draco shrugged. "She still ran."

Blaise threw his hands up. "I give up. Malfoy, get off your ass. Shower. Shave. Go find her. Bring her home. Kiss her. And be done with this. Because this," he gestured around, "is freaking me out."

Blaise stood up to leave.

"Maybe," Draco finally responded.

Maybe was getting somewhere, but it was getting there a little too slowly in Blaise's opinion.

He honestly didn't have the time for this. Draco and Hermione. They..._would literally kissing and making up work? _He pondered all of a sudden. It was possible...

He sighed inwardly. But that would mean they would have to be in the same vicinity, and clearly, they were not.

He would do his friend one last favour. And after that. They could deal with it themselves. Because if he could have Hermione delivered at the Malfoy doorsteps and they _still_ couldn't work it out, maybe they just weren't meant to be.

With that thought in mind, Blaise strode out of the room. He had a train to get on, a university to visit, and some rather good obscene words ready to portray his message for the girl intended.

* * *

"I've made a mistake."

Hermione scanned the room, her eyes sweeping from side to side as her head remained unmoving, facing Draco. Draco looked like how she felt. Miserable. Broken. He looked, essentially, like how she looked. Miserable. Broken. "I've made a mistake."

Draco stared up at her from his slouched position on the couch, unmoving. The anger he felt was almost tangible.

"I said," Hermione repeated, her tone rising, "I've made a mistake!"

"And what exactly do you want me to say Granger?" His eyes narrowed into slits. "Oh, boo hoo Granger made a mistake!"

Hermione stumbled back. Maybe she deserved that a little. But it was this side of him that scared her, this ability to revert back to himself. Didn't he understand?

Hermione sighed quietly, gathering her courage to say what she had planned to say. She couldn't even remember the last time she had apologized like this.

"Nothing," she began, answering his question. "I don't want you to say anything, just listen." She bit her lip and tucked her bangs behind her ear but was unable to make out any words.

After a minute, Draco choked out a laugh that embodied spite. "What are you even doing here?"

She wanted to reach out to him, but knew it wasn't her place too. Furthermore, she was afraid he would draw back from her, and she just couldn't bear to see that happen in front of her eyes. "Blaise talked to me," she said quietly. "Or rather, yelled."

That was the truth. Blaise had come, and announced himself, at the entrance of her school, telling everybody entering to find 'that girl named Hermione Granger' and get her out there to talk to him. He had actually threatened some of the other first years as well, with everything from stalking to him 

pulling out his wand. Word had gotten to Hermione, through James, that a crazy man was out there and she had went out to see him, with some hope that Draco would be there too.

Blaise seemed to sense this too, because the first thing he said as she neared was that Draco wasn't here, and didn't plan to be. Then he proceeded to tell her what had happened, tell her (in a rather scared tone) how Draco was fairing, and how she should haul her ass back there and fix it because that was all he was going to do. He hadn't even let her get a word in. He was on a roll. Blaise didn't have time for excuses, or defences.

It didn't take much convincing for her to get on the train back to London at all. Because as Blaise had described Draco—wallowing, no less—she had realized how irrationally she had acted. Not to mention how childishly, running away from her problems. She should have trusted him. Actually, there were a lot of things she should have done, and heading off to Erudstrass wasn't one of them.

She had planned to go back at some point. It scared her to think that she mught be going back to see the end of their relationship, but she had some sort of hope in her that Draco would come for her. But hearing Blaise, she figured that that was too much to ask. Maybe it was time for her own apology.

"Fuck Blaise," he said bitterly, bringing Hermione back. The truth was, he had wanted her to come back because she wanted to. Not because Blaise had made her.

She seemed to realize this.

"I would have come anyways."

"Right," Draco scoffed.

"What do you want me to say?" Hermione returned, not knowing how to respond.

Draco hesitated. His eyes narrowed. "Nothing," he returned flatly. "I want you to leave."

Hermione let out her own little miserable disbelieving laugh and threw her hands up in the air. "What am I doing here? You're right, fuck Blaise for this." She looked at him mournfully.

"Yes Granger!" he retorted angrily, abandoning any pretence of containing his temper. "What are you doing here? Get out! Run away again!" He slammed his hand against the backboard of the bed as he stood. He gave her one last scowl, a mix between pity and wistfulness before swinging around, walking briskly to the door.

She watched him walk away. Her mouth opened. And then closed again. "No, please don't go."One little quiet sentence escaped Hermione's lips before she could stop it and made Draco freeze.

"What did you say?" he asked, still firmly standing with his back to her.

_Screw it. _"Don't go," she pleaded. Literally. She felt like dropping to her knees, and honestly would have if it would have made any difference. She doubted it.

Draco's insides twisted at the raw emotion in her words. What right did she have?

He whirled around, eyes flashing, and marched towards her. He looked down at her through his turbulent grey eyes, locking onto hers. "There's no reason I should listen to you." His tone was cold. Frigid. Angry.

She resisted the urge to fall back. "I don't want you to go!" She all but screamed at him. "I don't want you to go. I. Don't. Want. You. To. Go."

"I don't care what you want," he said forcefully back to her, but he knew he would stay even as he said it.

"I can't lose you! You _can't _go!" Hermione raised her voice, nearly hysterical. "You just _can't! _I swear to god Draco please_—"_

"I want to go," Draco cut in evenly.

Hermione froze.

She looked at him with such an expression on her face that made him wonder what he had become in those few moments. He studied her carefully, as she studied him.The grief on her pale face was impossible to ignore. She looked sad. She looked scared of him. She looked frightened and bewildered. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose pink, but all the paled in comparison to her expressive eyes, which pulled him in as he knew they would. They were so completely filled with sorrow and regret that it stabbed him in a place he had sworn never to let her penetrate again.

He squinted his eyes as he felt them sting. His eyes shifted away from her. "Fine. I'm listening," he managed finally with effort, and stalked back to the bed. He would not let her see him hurt.

She watched him walk, and when he seated, she nodded once. "I'm—" she began. Then paused. "Draco, if you want to go..." she murmured, barely audibly, "I...I-I won't stop you.."

He didn't move. He was not going to apologize to _her._ Apparently, he wasn't going to leave either.

She nodded again. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I should have. I realize that now."

"Yeah," Draco said, his hard tone falling away briefly into almost a mournful sound, "you should have."

Hermione began pacing nervously, rubbing her eyes. She couldn't read him. His face was hard and emotionless, so much so that it was frightening. It was as if he was looking at her without really looking. His eyes, they showed no more hurt as before. They were a wall. She wouldn't let him close. Not anymore. And damnit, it hurt. She needed to know! She needed to know how he felt. Because she hated the fact that she was doing this blindly, putting herself out there. Should she leave? Did he want her to? She cringed inwardly. No, he had said he loved her. And she had doubted it once, with obvious error on her part. She wouldn't let herself make the same mistake again. He was just angry, she told herself. She 

looked at him for a moment. Just angry. And hurt. "I know. I know. But I was just so angry. I felt..betrayed." She sighed. "I'm not very good at this," she admitted.

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He clamped his mouth shut and turned away.

"Damnit!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "Shit."

When Draco made no further move to speak, she continued a little breathlessly. "I felt betrayed...because one moment you're saying you l-love me," she stumbled out, gulping. What if he didn't anymore? No, she wouldn't think that, because if she let that idea creep into her mind, she wouldn't be able to finish. "And promising me that she'd be gone, and the next moment—the next moment she tells me she wasn't leaving and...and I..." She faltered.

"You ran," he supplied angrily. "You ran from me." She could hear his voice shake. He clenched his jaw, and slowly released it with effort. His hand however, remained balled in a fist—a release for some of his anger.

"I didn't—" she began to defend, but paused. She looked at him, his raised eyebrows and his hurt expression. She had caused that. "I did. I ran because I was scared. I ran because I'm a coward. I don't really know why I ran Draco." The way she said his name made him shiver, so with emotion and..and love? "I was scared to love you. I was scared that you didn't love me. I was scared to confront you because my mind focused too much on _what if what Steph said was true._ I was scared to be hurt again, and in protecting myself so foolishly, I hurt you." Her heart tore when she realized that fact. "Oh god."

She continued on pacing, her hands twisting and pulling in front of her nervously. "Lord," she murmured.

She did hurt him. But Draco realized that she was hurt as well. Maybe not directly by him, but indirectly.

"A relationship is supposed to be built on _trust_," Draco said softly, his voice not betraying anything, although his heart was pounding. "I thought you of all people would understand that." Disappointment rang in his voice. Her heart bled. His heart twisted.

Hermione flinched visibly, pausing in her steps, back turned to Draco. "I _do _understand that," she said forcefully. She lifted her hands to her face. "I guess..I guess I just temporarily forgot that," she whispered. "Biggest mistake of my life," she mumbled to herself, although he heard her.

The sun shone through the windows of the room, and all of its rays seemed to center on Hermione. Draco thought it was breathtaking. And sort of cruel.

He imagined her turning towards him, imagine how the sun would soften her features, make her brown eyes shine and her skin warm. He could feel her beneath his fingers, and god, it was cruel.

It was fucking love. He knew that. He couldn't deny the fact that he loved her. He had long since admitted it, because denying it was futile. Love sucked, he concluded. But..love. Love could be great, he knew. Love...love could be your world. Love could be miraculous. And he'd be damned if he let love slip out of his grasp, because he wanted it so bad. Love, he knew, needed to be given chances.

There was a moment he couldn't make out words, and silence engulfed them.

Hermione wondered if this were the end. And as every second passed by, her heart sunk lower and lower. Her strong exterior slowly began to crumble, triggered by a tear leaking through the side of her eyes. Her legs weakened, and her arms slackened. Her head hung. She struggled to make it stop, to resist, but it was futile. And as her shoulders sank, and more tears rolled, she was forced to sniffle quietly and raise her hand to wipe the betraying tears away.

"Then I guess," Draco managed out finally, forcing himself not to hear her cry, "it comes down to this." He looked steadily at her, unblinkingly.

Hermione bit her lip so hard, that she fought it might bleed. She was not going to sob. But tears rolled silently down anyways. Her right hand came up to her face, clasping over her mouth to further prevent it. She trained her eyes on the outside, a place that didn't remind her so much of Draco.

It was the end. The end, and she didn't want it to end. In fact, that was the last thing she wanted. She let out something that sounded like a cross between a sob and a gasp as the realization hit her.

"Do you," Draco continued on, barely above a whisper, "or do you not trust me?"

Draco silently stood up, waiting for an answer. He looked at her, only because he simply couldn't pull his eyes anywhere else. He grimaced. His hands clenched into hard fists, his nails digging into his skin.

Her eyes widened, and hope flared within her. She did trust him. Hermione did trust him. The thing she didn't trust was her voice. So she nodded. Slowly at first, and then so fervently it gave her an headache.

Draco saw it. His eyes wavered. He stepped towards her, more confident now. He leaned down, unclenched his hands and held them near her, but not touching her. He whispered into her ear. "Do you, or do you not?" he said with conviction.

Hermione didn't bother to suppress the shiver that ran through her body. He could see what he did to her for all she cared now. She just wanted him back. She just wanted to go back to what it was. She let her hand fall away, and released the grip on her bottom lip. She sniffled loudly, and took a moment to calm herself down. "I do," she finally said, her eyes never moving away from the field outside. "I trust you. I-I.." Here it was. She was going to put herself out there, vulnerable and.. "I love you."

Draco could _not_ describe to you what he was feeling in that very moment. But relief. Relief was certainly there. Because she loved him. And it was going to be okay. He felt his whole body soften. He felt his demeanor relax. He felt his heart...explode would be too weak to describe it.

"I love you," she said again, wondering if he heard it. "So much it hurts me sometimes."

Was it perverse to feel pleased that she hurt loving him? Because..

He clasped his hand around her right one, and his other arm around her waist, pulling her against him from behind so that she flew forcefully into him. He tilted his head down and buried his face into her hair. She smelled like...Hermione. So, so very sweet. She stiffened, waiting for him to say something to 

assure her this was real. She was afraid she was hallucinating all of this. Imagining his touch, because she had done it so much back at the school that it had scared her.

"That's all I needed to hear," he said into her hair, and she finally let herself cry.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, lifting his head up with obvious effort. He turned her around in his arms, never releasing his grip on her, and the moment she turned around, she threw herself into him. Every last hint of a smirk fell away on his face, and was replaced by something else. Something she had never seen before. Love. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her face buried into his chest. It was so comfortable. So perfect.

"You're not...sad...that you love me, are you?" He joked, attempting to lighten the mood. She shook her head immediately, apparently not seeing the joke.

"It's just," she said into his chest. "It's just...I'm so sorry," she burst out.

Draco pulled her head back, and used his thumb to trace the tear rolling down her cheek. He wiped it away as it reached her chin, and in the same movement, tucked his hand beneath her chin and pulled her head upwards to look at him. "And I forgive you," he said clearly. "And I'm sorry too." He paused. "For the record, just to clear it all up, I love you too."

He leaned down and kissed her briefly, pulling on her lips as he pulled away. He held the back of her head, hand buried in her hair, and gently eased her cheek against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head.

"We're going to be okay," Hermione quietly murmured. She felt him nod. "Tomorrow, I'll get my stuff from my dorm."

"What?"

"I just thought...to come back? You know...I sort of impetuously packed all my stuff and left remember."

Draco was about to nod, when a thought stuck him. He looked down at her thoughtfully.

He looked far away all of a sudden, which worried Hermione. "No..." he said slowly.

Hermione looked up, surprised. "What?"

He turned back to her. "You can't," Draco said simply.

"But...why?" Hermione asked, confused.

"Because," Draco said slowly, as if contemplating the idea that moment, "you've always wanted to go to that school. And I know you still do want to go to that school."

"But..."

"You do want to go to that school though."

"But.."

"Yes, or no?" Draco demanded.

"Of course," Hermione responded truthfully, because she honestly wanted to go to school—just not if it meant leaving him. Not anymore.

"It's only a year right? Don't give up your dreams for me." Draco smiled. "I couldn't live with myself."

"You have no conscience. Don't lie to me," Hermione teased automatically. She then frowned. "It's two years. But Draco..."

"Then I'll wait two years for you."

Hermione's frowned deepened. And Draco paused. "You trust me right?" he asked, slightly scared of the answer.

Hermione looked up at him. "What? Oh. Of course." The idea of him cheating or anything hadn't even come to mind, to be honest. She continued on frowning.

"Then what is it?"

"It's just that..._I_ won't see _you_ for so long..."

"I think you'll live."

"I don't."

Draco smiled. "Go," he whispered breathlessly. Before he could regret his uncharacteristically gallant action. But he doubted he would regret it. Because...He looked down at her. Because it made her happy. Because he knew that for her to be happy, he needed to let her go. Mind you, he was only planning to let go for a while(two years to be exact) but he knew it was what he had to do.

"I don't want to leave you," Hermione murmured. "I can't."

He would never admit how happy he felt to hear her say those words. Call it selfish. Call it comfort. He didn't want her to leave either. "I'll still be here," he said instead.

"I just can't." His heart soared, but he firmly pushed it back down.

"You managed before," Draco said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, well I wasn't thinking was I? Haven't we already established that?"

Draco shrugged, but held her closer to him, scared to let go.

It took a while.

"You know this is a limited time offer. I'm not going to beg you to go," he murmured.

"You sure?" Hermione asked finally, fearfully. She snuggled closer into him, and he clung to her just as equally as she clung to him.

Draco nodded. "On one condition."

He looked down at her, his eyes challenging. She met his challenge. "What's that?"

Draco took her hand, and led her to the bed, seating her there. Then, he reached into the drawer beside his bed, and pulled out a small velvet box.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You're not...proposing," she blurted out. "Are you?" she squeaked, her lips pursing in fear.

Draco chuckled as he climbed onto the bed beside her. "No," he answered easily, "it's just that. I never gave you anything I realized." He opened the box and handed it to her. Inside was a simple silver band. He handed the box to her. "Watch," he whispered. He took her other hand in his and brought it up so that her fingers touched the band. And slowly, intricate engravings appeared on the ring. She rubbed her thumb across it.

"It's beautiful," she gasped. She dropped her hands into her lap and stared at him. "I can't..."

"Are you going to reject my gift?" he asked, narrowing his eyes jokingly.

"But.." Hermione eased the ring out of the box, and lifted it up in the air to admire it.

Draco took it out of her hands, the engravings fading. He took her hands, and slipped it onto her middle finger. "It suits you," he murmured.

Hermione held her hand out, and smiled. "Yeah."

"But," Draco said slowly, after Hermione's smile grew a little wider. "Accepting the gift wasn't the one condition. As much as you would like it to be," he teased.

Hermione's smile dropped and she looked at him, slightly amused. "And what would that one condition be then."

Draco took her hand. "Accept me. As your...official, real, not-employing-you, boyfriend."

Hermione pretended to ponder, and then frown, and then ponder some more as Draco rolled his eyes. She lifted her hand up again. "I guess," she began, "if only for this ring."

Draco smirked. "I could take this ring back you know."

"You wouldn't!"

"I would, and you know it," he laughed.

Hermione smiled. "But I love you! You wouldn't because you love me too," she squealed happily, reaching up to kiss his bottom lip.

Anticipating it, he tilted down and captured hers instead. "You're right. Damn."

* * *

It was only about 3 minutes after that Narcissa had burst into the room, hands clasped together eagerly. Hermione and Draco broke apart like the teenagers they were, caught kissing by the parents. Draco was a little red, whilst Hermione was flushed completely with embarrassment.

"Mother," Draco said dully. He looked behind her. "Father."

"Oh Hermione! What a surprise!" Narcissa exclaimed. She turned to Draco. "It's about time!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco groaned. He then looked suspiciously at his parents. "And what are you doing here?"

"We weren't eavesdropping!" Narcissa raised her hand, as if swearing.

"Oh, I know," Draco answered confidently. "My walls and doors all have charms. Don't tell me you weren't trying though."

Draco chuckled as his mother pouted, dropping the extendible ear she was holding to the ground. Hermione looked on, amused, but afraid to put in a word for the fact that she didn't feel like she belonged. She hadn't seen the parents since dinner that night and..shit, her apology.

She didn't get a chance to begin however, as Narcissa immediately stole her out of her son's arms—rather literally—and hugged her. Hermione had never felt so emotional in her life. So thankful.

"Hey!" Draco protested, good naturedly.

"Oh shut up son. I'm so glad you're back Hermione," Lucius said, surprising all of them.

Hermione, after being released from Narcissa's grip, looked wide-eyed at Lucius. "Th-Thank you."

"What, I can't be nice?" Lucius chuckled. "Reputation," he murmured so his wife could hear. He had begun to say something else, but lost it as he felt Hermione's arms snake around him in a hug.

He looked down, not knowing what to do, before smiling slightly and wrapping his arms around her too.

"I'm so sorry," she finally said. "About the whole thing. About everything..." Hermione felt all the words she had planned to say melt away. So she took Blaise's advice. "I'm just so sorry."

Draco came up behind her, and took her hand.

"Don't be dear," Narcissa smiled. "It wasn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have—"

"Don't be," Lucius said sternly.

Draco squeezed her hand, and Hermione nodded. "There's something else," she said quietly. She watched the Malfoy family. Her family in a way. And couldn't imagine not seeing them for so long. She leaned against Draco's strong stance. "I'm not really back for good. Yet," she added.

Narcissa and Lucius waited for her to continue patiently, and Hermione felt another surge of emotion in her for those two elders.

"I mean, it's not that I don't want to. I do!," she fumbled out hurriedly, "It's just. I have to go to school. It's something I've always dreamed about, and it's something I simply..."

"..have to do? Have to prove?" Lucius supplied knowingly.

Hermione nodded. "A part of me doesn't want to either." She felt emotion in her eyes once again. "But I think if I don't, I'll regret it for a long long time." She turned towards Draco and smiled a watery smile. "I'm sorry to disappoint you further," Hermione murmured at last.

"You could never disappoint us. You never disappointed us, and you will never disappoint us," Lucius said softly.

"We'll miss you Hermione," Narcissa agreed, adding her own part.

And that was that. They accepted it. Understood it. And supported her.

Hermione stared at them. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the right words.

Narcissa seemed to understand though, when she nodded with a sad smile.

"I'll miss you more," Draco quipped. "I'll be waiting for you when you come back."

Hermione couldn't help the tears now. And she didn't try to stop them. There was no possible way she could.

She smiled through her watery eyes.

She felt like a part of herself was looking at the scene from the outside, like an angel watching from above. And as she looked at the once bushy haired know-it-all all grown up, standing there sharing laughs with her new found family, hands intertwined with the blonde haired man standing beside her, supporting her, her smile only grew.

For a brief moment, her life flashed before her eyes. Not in the morbid, death-is-in-your-face way, but in the reminiscing essence. And as she watched herself, oddly comfortable with the surrealism of this feeling, she realized that she had never once dreamed that this could ever happen to her.

She watched herself lean against Draco thoroughly as his hand went around her waist.

But who could disagree with the happiness in her face, and the rapid pounding in her heart. Who could disagree with the love she felt for this family, for this man, and who could disagree with the love they had given to her?

The little young Hermione would be disgusted by the future her, she mused. But she wouldn't trade it for the world.

And as she felt herself coming back to reality, as the sounds around her resumed loudly, as the little hovering part of her returned to her body, she realized she was now ready. Ready to go to school. Happy to go to school, with the promise of love waiting for her upon return. And love it certainly was. Her heart sped up.

She felt a small secretive smile creep onto her face, and as Narcissa rattled on, Draco turned and gave her a questioning look.

She only shrugged. How could she explain it?

_I love you,_ he mouthed with a smile, his grey eyes half hidden by his long bangs twinkling.

No, she corrected her previous statement, looking at Draco. She wasn't just happy to go to school. Now...now, she was simply happy.

**The End**

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**Two words I never wanted to see.**

There is still an epilogue after this. And don't worry, I promise you a nice (in my opinion) bit of closure because I know this end is a little open ended, which was why I was originally worried to use this as the ending.

Maybe if like..you guys think after the EPILOGUE comes out, you think that the epi is a better ending, then I can change the Epilogue to the ending instead. It's sort of just like a sweet _short _little ending. That's what I have planned anyways. Ok, this is so sad.

**But, I just wanted to thank every single person who read this story, and supported it along the way. Every single review has helped pushed this story along, and has helped improve me as a writer. So thank you very much. So so much, because just knowing that people read my story is so so gratifying.**

**Thank you to those who stuck with this story from its beginning, and to all who joined along the way and I guess to all those future readers. **

**All I have to say is thank you.**

**You have made my day. Made this story, I guess. And I'm so sad to see this story come to an end. It was great fun writing it. This story has been my best story yet. And i hope to continue writing more******** weeeeee. I'll miss this story SO SO MUCH, and all of you guys, SO SO MUCH MORE, when this is over...**

**BUT ITS NOT!**

**NOT YET!**

**ITS NOT OVER! ONE MORE CHAPTER!**

**THE EPILOGUE IS COMING...SOON:D**

_**Do me a favour and review PLEASE:)**__** I mean, this chapter scares the wits out of me, and it'd be nice to hear what you think. I would be totally willing to make changes if I think they're good changes and will improve the story so please, REVIEW, if not just for the sake of this being the end? :)**_

**REVIEW**


	35. Epilogue: Stories For Our Grandchildren

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Here it is—the epilogue. It's not long.**

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**Epilogue: Stories For Our Grandchildren**

Draco tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes straying to the watch on his left hand once again. He needn't have though. At that exact moment, the large pendulum hanging at the front of King's Cross Station swung to the side, triggering the loud sound that followed. It signalled the beginning of a new hour.

6 o'clock, Draco thought, glancing at the bouquet of daisies sitting beside him. He imagined her laughing at it, then thanking him for remembering her favourite flowers.

There weren't a lot of people there. Nothing like how it was on platform 9 and ¾. His eyes caught site of a few friends stumbling through the barrier, laughing.

Suddenly, a loud whistle startled him. Draco felt himself smile, and he swept the bangs off his face as he pushed to a stand. He watched the train roll its way into the platform as his anxiety built up. He turned around and bent down to pick up the flowers.

Finally, the train pulled to a stop.

Draco watched the line of people filing off the train, waiting to see the familiar girl he had come to love so fully.

_Hermione, Hermione, where are you? _he thought, as he searched the crowd.

Time seemed to stretch as he watched each person seem to find their awaiting family, breaking out into huge smiles as they headed for the barriers one again.

_Where are you?_

He dropped his hand, holding the flowers to his side as he eased someone aside with his other hand. He pushed his way through, and began combing the platform looking for her.

Finally, he spotted the curly brown hair. He all but ran to her, grabbing hold of her hand, spinning her around.

"Hermione," he began. Then stopped. "Oh, I'm sorry."

The girl shook her head with a smile. "It's alright." She turned back around to face her friends, leaving Draco to wonder...where was Hermione?

Soon enough, Draco was the only one standing at the empty platform. And he was sure it was empty too. He had walked back and forth along the length of the area enough times. He slowly walked back to the bench in somewhat of a daze, tossing the flowers down gently before he took a seat. As he sat and kicked his shoes forward, the echo resounded loudly throughout the room.

He sighed loudly, hearing himself through the echo, and ran his hands through his hair. He shook his head, and lay back against the back of the bench, closing his eyes.

"Sir," he heard a voice say gruffly, "there ain't no train coming this way no more." It seemed like a rough man trying to speak politely. Draco opened his eyes slowly.

"I'm waiting for someone," he said simply.

"A girl I suppose," the man returned. Draco nodded, tilting his head towards the flowers.

"Well mister, I just thought I'd let you know. Last train came by an hour ago. She ain't gonna be comin"."

Draco nodded. "I think I'll wait anyways. Do you know when the next train comes?"

"No sir."

After the man saw that Draco had no intention to leave, he chuckled. "Young love," the man murmured wisely with a smile, and for a moment, Draco thought the voice sounded oddly similar to his old headmasters'. By the time he whipped his head around though, the man was gone. Draco chuckled. He was getting too tired, imagining things.

He stretched out and made himself comfortable, loosening his tie and taking off his suit jacket.

He had said he would wait for her, and he would. She would come, he knew.

He yawned, shifting himself into a more comfortable situation all the while minding the bouquet of flowers.

Minutes passed, turning easily into hours. Draco ran a hand over his face trying to wipe the sleep off him. He rolled his neck in a circle, hearing the relieving tired cracks and tried to stifle another yawn.

And as sleep began to overtake him, it amazed him that although he seriously wondered where she was and why she wasn't there, he knew that she would be there the next day. He would see her again, smiling at him, teasing him, laughing with him and just being with him. How he knew, he couldn't tell you. Thinking about her made him smile.

He laid himself flat on the bench, tucking his jacket under his head as a pillow, keeping the flowers underneath the bench for protection and closed his eyes, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

* * *

Hermione stepped off the train, turning around afterwards to lift her bags off. She eased her trunks onto the ground and moved to the side, leaning on her toes immediately to spot the unique head of platinum blonde hair.

"Keep in touch Hermione!" James called as he stepped onto the platform after her, spotting his parents.

"What?" Hermione returned, still looking around. "Oh, definitely James," she smiled, turning to give him a brief hug. "Hey, have you seen Draco?" The two men had met over one of her breaks, and had gotten along surprisingly well too.

James shook his head and looked around for her.

"Alright then..." Hermione shrugged and smiled. "Well I guess this is it for now."

He nodded. "I'll see you soon!" James called back as he wheeled his trunk towards his family while Hermione pulled her own trunk forwards through the crowd.

Systematically, she worked her way from the back of the platform towards the front, yawning despite the fact that it was well into the morning.

"Whoa!" she called, narrowly avoiding a child sprinting across her path. She veered to the right, and stopped herself barely in time before bumping into a man sleeping on the bench.

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Sleeping? Seriously? In noise like this?_ He didn't look too scruffy—he dressed rather nicely actually, so Hermione wasn't really sure what he was doing there. She couldn't actually see his face, which was hidden by his coat.

"He been here all night," a gruffy voice said, "waiting for a lady he said. You the lady?"

Hermione looked at the old man holding the broom from the corner of her eyes. "I don't think so sir."

The man shrugged. "I ain't no sir. Anyways, I hope she comes," he murmured before wandering off.

She shook her head in disbelief and was about to continue her search for Draco when something caught her eye. It was a flash of yellow.

She narrowed her eyes and leaned down, carefully extracting the coat from the man's face. The man twitched, and Hermione laughed. She let go of her trunks and bit her lip, and idea coming to mind.

"Oh, Draco dear," she said from above, "Baby!" She stifled a laugh and brought her hands to his cheeks, pinching them lightly.

Draco's eyes flew open. "Mother!" he responded automatically, "She's coming back I swear I swear..."

Hermione laughed out loud, holding out her hands for Draco to grab as he balanced himself to keep from falling because of his abrupt shift in posture. She wrapped her fingers around his and pulled him up.

"What are you doing sleeping here?" she said, still laughing as she shook her head.

Draco pretended to be upset, but as Hermione laughed even harder, he broke out into a smile as well. "Waiting for you," he said, rolling his eyes as Hermione beamed. "Which reminds me..." He bend down and picked up the bouquet of flowers, frowning as he looked at it.

"Wilted flowers," mused Hermione, "every girl's dreams." But she took them gratefully anyways, and held them protectively in front of her.

"Well they weren't wilted yesterday," Draco explained.

"I know," Hermione interrupted.

"Which reminds me again," Draco frowned. "Where were you last night? I was here and the train came but you weren't on it. I was scared you weren't coming."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and pointed her finger at him. "No you weren't."

Draco laughed and raised his hands in mock defeat, pulling her down to take a seat with him. "No, but I _was _worried. And my poor flowers suffered because of it. Along with my back."

Hermione leaned into him, grinning wickedly. "And what if I promise a massage for you later...tonight?"

Draco smirked. "Then I guess I could deal with it."

Hermione laughed. "Okay, okay, so what's this about coming yesterday."

"In your letter you said you'd be back..."

"Yes, but the day before my last exam got rescheduled. I was writing a letter to Blaise at that time, so I told him to tell you I'd be coming on the next train the next morning. Didn't he mention it to you?"

Draco shook his head. "No..."

"So let me get this straight." Hermione felt the corners of her lips twitch. "You came here at 6, found that I wasn't here, and decided to..."

"...sit here like a fool waiting for you, spending the night at a train station sleeping on a bench? Yes, pretty much."

Hermione shook her head and snuck her arms around him, burying herself into him. A smile tugging at her mouth. "Aw, you're so cute."

"Cute wasn't exactly what I was looking for. Cute..makes me sound...like such a pansy—"

"Like such a cutie?" Hermione said looking up at him through her lashes, blinking prettily.

Draco sighed. "Yes, yes, whatever you say. I've gone mad."

"Sometimes..." Hermione laughed," like when you decide to bunk on a bench, I think so too. In a good way though!"

Draco shook his head. He took her hands and unravelled them from around him and wrapped his own arms around her instead. "Well, as someone once said. There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. You, Hermione, are my reason."

"Aw, you're my reason too Draco," she said snuggling into him. "And this just proves my point."

"What point?"

"That you're cute of course. Oh, and sort of sappy too. Who would have thought?"

Draco mocked a sigh. "What am I going to do with you?"

Hermione pretended to ponder. "How about...take me home, feed me lunch, and then love me forever and ever?" She smiled at him.

Draco rolled his eyes at her but helped her up nonetheless. "I'm in for it. But what about me?"

Hermione laughed. "I don't really have a house, and I have no money for food right now, but I can promise to love you forever and ever."

Draco hung his arm around her shoulders and picked up her trunk with the other hand. "I guess that'll do."

Hermione rested her head on his shoulders, and snuck her arm around his waist once again.

"So no more school?" he murmured.

"Well...there is this one course..it sounds pretty interesting and all..."

Draco groaned.

"Kidding!" Hermione laughed. "No more. Just you and me from now on."

"Good, 'cause I don't think I could take another night on the bench."

Hermione shrugged casually, loving the feeling of his arm around her shoulders. Although it was a little bit heavy. "Hey, look on the bright side...it's another story for our grandchildren one day." Hermione blushed even as the words left her mouth. She looked at him, worried. They had never really discussed...

"Grandchildren," he murmured, knowing that she was awaiting his reaction. He would never admit that the idea had crossed his mind a few times recently. Or maybe more than a few. He played out the seconds, looking at her through the corner of his eyes. She was nervous. Revenge was nice. "I like the idea of that," he whispered. He felt her sigh of relief. "Although Hermione," he turned to look at her seriously. "I think we have _more than enough_ stories to last for our future grandchildren. Hey, there might even be some new ones for our great grandchildren."

Hermione chuckled. "What's so bad in that?"

"Nothing. Just promise me something Hermione?"

She noticed the sudden seriousness in his voice. "Okay..." she said slowly, worried. "Anything."

"Never speak the word grandchildren in front of my mother," he said gravely.

Hermione laughed out loud, and nudged Draco in the ribs but he only looked at her seriously.

"Fine, fine," she sighed. "I promise. Now back to the home, lunch and loving my forever thing? Let's get on that shall we?"

* * *

**The End**

Completed July 27, 2008

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Short and sweet.

**And that was truly...the end.**

**Aw. I love you guys. :) **

**THANK YOU AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT AND REVIEWS AND READS!**

**Some stats so I will remember FOREVER. (all of these are as of the completion date.)  
**

Lowest # of reviews. 14. (and only ONCE at the beginning too! WOW!) My last story had a tops of like...40 something, and getting 20 was like a WOWOWOWOW for me. Which tells you how much of a thrill it was writing this story.

Highest(so far) 90.

Story Alerts(right now)444

Favs(right now) 300

Communities(right now)15

**WOW. Thank you SO INCREDIBLY MUCH TO EACH ONE OF YOU.**

**Thanks!**

**Thanks for putting up with me all this way. **

**And one last time?:) Review?**

**Jodielove**


	36. AN New Story

**OCT 21--A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I've done it!**

**IT HAS BEEN UPLOADED! THE TITLE OF THE STORY IS **TEMPTATION**! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! **

**:) Okay, finally, the very end.:)**

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**SORRY. I know. I said like a week after. BUT NO IDEAS CAME!:(**

**However, school unfortunately did :(**

**No excuse, I know! But here's an IDEA of the next story I'm planning for Dramione. Just an idea! You guys can be like wow I hate it and I'll be like, okay…back to the drawing board! No hard feelings. I just really wanna know how you guys would feel if it became a story.**

**This is just an excerpt I quickly wrote up from probably like the first or second chapter? I'm not sure. **

EXCERPT

He waswho he was. It was that simple. There were no lies. No false preconceptions. No hiding behind masks. He was Draco Malfoy. Cold. Spiteful. Angry. Smart. And damned irritable.

Hermione knew that. She did.

But he was temptation. Tantalizing. Foreign.

He stood there, laughing with his friends. She watched. Not with love, god no. Or even want. No, she watched with curiosity. With wonder.

There were no lies. No false preconceptions. No hiding behind masks. She knew what she was getting into.

They lock eyes, and for a moment, the world stops. His harsh slate eyes slash across her hardened brown ones. And then it's over. She looks away first. He turns around.

He wasn't going to break her, she promised. And she knew she wasn't going to break him.

But when you play with fire, how long before you get burned?

**That was a sort of preview I suppose.**

**SUMMARY:**

**It's seventh year. The war, for the purpose of this fiction, will have been over. Hermione and Draco will be head girl and boy. There…will be no mature scenes, but the implication will be there. I'm hoping this to be a slightly less humorous fiction and more sorta romance/hurt/comfort/drama. I'm planning to focus on just school, and less outside. It's not going to be as…I unno…fairytale ish, although I can't promise anything and I can't promise no cheesiness. Essentially, Draco's going to be a fairly cold guy for the most part. He's not going to be the nice guy being a mask. But it's a romance so in the end lalala. And Hermione isn't going to be the crying girl. **

**DRAMIONE, obviously. **

**Right now, it's more a work in progress. I just wanted to know what you guys think. I know its not much to work on, but if I can get a story plan going soon, thennn I'll upload a prologue soon!:) HOW EXCITING. AND YOU GUYS WOULD REVIEW IT AND MAKE MY LIFE RIGHT?:)**

**LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK K**

**HATE IT LOVE IT CHANGE IT I'm all open to ideas!**

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